


A Man Out of Time

by shadowscall



Series: In the Time of Need [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Merlin (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), F/M, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24949972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowscall/pseuds/shadowscall
Summary: He began to raise his free hand, unable to explain the need to see his face when he was startled backwards. The man’s head snapped upwards and the brightest pair of blue eyes stared back at him, wide and ublinking, almost disbelieving. The man tried to say something, but no sound came from his dry mouth.“Hang in there, buddy,” Steve said, snapping into action now that he knew the man was still alive. “I’m going to get you out of here, I promise.”The man tried to smile at him, but it came across as more of a pained grimace. However, it seemed to have drained him of whatever little energy he had because the next thing, his head dropped back down and Steve couldn’t quite explain the panic spreading in his heart at the sight.
Relationships: Merlin (Merlin)/Steve Rogers, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: In the Time of Need [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805686
Comments: 88
Kudos: 447





	1. Chapter 1

Something wasn’t right, the place was too quiet and once the group had gotten through the initial guards, they'd been met with no resistance making their way deeper into the building. It wasn’t even that the agents lowered their arms and fled, it was just that they were nowhere to be found. 

The base was located on a small unmarked island not far off the Italian coast, a research facility of some sort according to the very limited information that had ever been recorded of the place, the majority of it dating back to a secret project, Project Eternal, from 1941 and with their other projects of that time in mind, Steve could only figure out that it was bad.

However, unlike the four other Hydra facilities the team had raided in their search of Loki’s scepter, this place seemed abandoned and Steve almost believed it was. Almost. According to Jarvis, there was an unusual energy signature coming from somewhere in the facility, too weak to pinpoint its exact location but enough to tell them there was something there.

But if there was something there, then where was Hydra?

“Keep your guard up,” Steve said, leaning against the wall as he looked at the next corridor. “I have a bad feeling about this place.” 

He flexed his fingers before continuing on his path. “Anyone else getting creepy haunted house vibes?” Clint’s voice echoed over comms. 

“Really, birdie? Didn’t know you were easily scared,” came Stark's quick reply and Steve could only shake his head, continuing slowly down the path that led him deeper into the ground. He didn’t pay attention to whatever banter began after that, only listening in for any sign of struggle over the comms.

There was none. 

“Jarvis,” Steve said, stopping in front of a heavy rusted door. “Any more information about our mystery energy source?” 

“Yes, Captain,” came the A.I. familiar voice. “The door in front of you seemed to be made of an altered form of enhanced iron and seemed to be absorbing the energy, according to the building plan there is no room behind this point.”

Steve sighed, “and you can’t tell me what’s in there.”

“Correct, there seems to be some sort of disturbance,” Jarvis admitted.

Steve reached for the door, which was surprisingly unlocked. “Guys,” he called, looking into the darkness, “I’m going in.”

“Call if you need anything, I’m going to crack some of those old computers,” Natasha’s voice came through and with a final nod, Steve turned on a flashlight and entered the new room. It was another corridor, long and narrow, the walls a dirty white color but blank. 

Steve’s eyes narrowed, a loud echoing sound came from up ahead and he gently reached for his communication device. “Guys, there’s something down here,” he said, but there was no answer. “Guys,” he tried again. “Jarvis?” again there was no answer. “Great, just great,” he mumbled but didn’t turn back. 

The corridor seemed to stretch on for at least half a mile before there was another door, he didn’t have Jarvis to confirm it, but it seemed to be made of the same type of metal the previous one was made of, only that this one was locked. 

Steve considered his options, without many of them, he pulled his arm backward and brought his shield down on the lock, watching as the metal bent before repeating the action until the lock broke. That was not regular iron, something had definitely reinforced it.

Not sure what to expect, the Captain was ready for almost anything, mostly walking right into the enemy’s quarters and facing heavy fire. However, the scene that greeted him was far from it.

The room was large and circular, the only noise was coming from at least a dozen old machines spread around the room, connected with different wires and tubes. However, the most unsettling thing was located right in the middle. A man.

The man had been stripped of all of his clothing, a pair of breeches left to cover his modesty, he was hanging from the ceiling by a pair of shackles that held him just above ground level. The tubes leading from the machines dug into his arms and legs, a golden liquid flowing through them. The man’s skin was covered with old scars, silver lines glowing against pale, almost transparent skin. 

Slowly, even more cautious than before, Steve approached the man. A head of black hair lolling forward and making it impossible to see the man’s face, but still it was as if Steve had been meant to find him. 

He began to raise his free hand, unable to explain the need to see his face when he was startled backwards. The man’s head snapped upwards and the brightest pair of blue eyes stared back at him, wide and ublinking, almost disbelieving. The man tried to say something, but no sound came from his dry mouth.

“Hang in there, buddy,” Steve said, snapping into action now that he knew the man was still alive. “I’m going to get you out of here, I promise.”

The man tried to smile at him, but it came across as more of a pained grimace. However, it seemed to have drained him of whatever little energy he had because the next thing, his head dropped back down and Steve couldn’t quite explain the panic spreading in his heart at the sight.

_**xxxx** _

He should have probably gone back up for some help, but he had been too afraid that if he left the man hanging in there for a moment longer, he just wouldn’t make it. Steve had to get the man down, he couldn’t bear the thought of doing anything else. It had been more complicated than he thought and he hoped that he hadn’t done too much damage by the time he could sling the man’s body over his shoulder and make his way back.

Hopefully, whatever Tony had back in his tower could help heal this man from whatever horror Hydra had inflicted on him before leaving him for dead. 

“Steve? Captain?” came a string of voice through the comms the moment he got back into range, but the man could only respond with a grunt, too busy trying not to irritate the fragile body he was carrying. 

“Rogers, come in,” it was Natasha, she sounded almost worried for him and it would have been touching, in a different situation. 

“I’m here,” he mumbled, not stopping as he made his way to the main floor, knowing he needed to get the man out of the base. “I found someone, he’s in bad shape, we need to evac.” 

He heard Tony’s suit before the answer came, “what do you mean you found someone? Like an Hydra agent? Are we keeping them now?”

“Not the time, Tony,” he granted, finally making his way to the door and noticing Tony already there.

“Oh shit, the guy looks like a ghost,” came the almost concerned reply from the iron man. “What the hell happened to him?”

Steve sighed, lowering the man gently to the ground to wait for the jet. “If I have to guess, Hydra, probably another experiment.”

“Jarvis, can you tell us anything about our little find?” Tony said and Steve almost wished that he could see his face and know what was going through his mind right now. 

“On it, sir,” the reply was sharp and although Steve didn’t really know much about it, he guessed that the A.I. was looking through whatever resources he could access in order to find information about the mystery man. “It seems, sir, that the Captain might be right.”

Steve could have already told them that, just based on the way in which he found the other man. “What did you get?” asked Tony.

“This man seems to be Matthew Emerson, a former medic in the British Army who died in March 1941, his body had never been recovered.”

“How is that possible?” Steve could barely recognize his own voice as he looked down at the man.

“I am unsure, Captain,” Jarvis almost seemed to hesitate before he continued. “However, the energy that I detected earlier, this man is the source of it.”

Steve didn’t need to see Tony’s face to see the gears turning in the man’s head at the news, he’ll just have to make sure that whatever Tony would do to figure this all out, this man, Matthew, would finally get to be treated like a human again.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two days since they arrived back at the tower and the stranger, no, Matthew, had been left in the caring hands of doctor Helen Cho. Steve had only been able to see him once, right before the woman kicked them all out of the room so she could do her job. She had later reported that it was a miracle the man was still alive, but despite his worry, as unexplained as it was, Steve had been unable to visit the medical wing.

He didn’t understand a lot about science, but Tony and Doctor Banner had been basically locked away going over whatever information it was that Natasha had managed to scrape out of the old computers. What he did understand was that Hydra had been trying to create an immortal army but seemed to have run into some issues with their test subject. 

Tony had been trying to figure out the type of energy that seemed to have settled around Matthew once he was released from his shackles, Jarvis confirming the signature to be much stronger with the strange iron gone, but at the same time seemed to be strictly contained inside the man. Tony had even risked trying to test the man himself, but had been harshly kicked out of the room. Steve would admit that there was something oddly satisfying hearing Pepper reprimand him afterwards.

Steve himself had gone out with Natasha and Clint back to the island, trying to see if they could find any more information about what had been transiparring in that base. However, apart from a few samples of the cold to the touch iron, they hadn’t been able to find anything. It left the man with an unsettling feeling in his gut.

With nothing else left to do and some time to plan their next raid, Steve had eventually made his way to see Matthew. 

He had asked Jarvis to gather some more information about him first, but there hadn’t been much to go off on. Matthew Emerson was born in Wales in December of 1920, making him a couple years younger than Steve himself. He had been an orphan and had no notable achievements until he enlisted in the Royal Army Medical Corps in the early stages of World War II. There were some impressive notes about his talents and bravery while helping others under enemy’s fire, but barely anything else, Matthew Emerson had eventually died without anyone to remember him. 

Well, Steve knew better, he hadn’t died but instead had become one of Hyrda’s test subjects. He couldn’t quite understand why they picked him, as there was seemingly nothing remarkable about that man from his records. Nothing but the fact that he seemed to be brave and determined, a survivor. 

Steve sighed as he leaned against the doorframe, looking at Matthew as he laid motionless on the bed. He already looked much better than Steve had remembered him, some color had returned to his skin, the angry red marks on his wrists were almost gone, he would have to give it to Doctor Cho, she seemed to have done miracles on him.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood at the door, watching the man’s chest rise and fall in a slow and steady rhythm, the gentle beeping of the machines the only sound in the room. He didn’t even notice when he moved closer, his gaze turning to Matthew’s face, reviewing the high cheekbones or the curve of his nose, unable to shake a sense of familiarity in them even when he knew it to be impossible, they couldn’t have met before. 

He almost yearned for those bright blue eyes to open again, to see them as they should be and not full of despair and hurt as they had been the one time Steve had been privileged to their color. 

“Hey, I don’t know if you can hear me,” he began, unsure of what to say or if he should even say anything. “But I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone and that things, they’ll be better now.” Steve gently reached for the man’s hand, squeezing it lightly before he turned to leave.

Only that he couldn’t, Steve turned back to Matthew, eyes wide as he looked at the hand squeezing his own back and the flatter of eyelids. “Nurse!” Steve called out, not letting his eyes drift from the man who fought the sleep that had taken him. “Matthew? Hey, can you hear me?” he didn’t even know why he sounded so frantic.

It was only a few moments before a nurse came into the room, eyes confused as she looked between Steve and the man before checking the machines next to the bed. She was about to say something when the man opened his eyes, however, they weren’t the bright blue color Steve remembered, but molten gold.

“Arthur,” he breathed out, his voice rough after not being used for who knows how long. However before he, or anyone else could say or do anything else, the man began to seize. Strong tremors shook his body as his eyes rolled backwards and Steve found himself reaching forward to hold him down to his bed, pinning his arms so he wouldn’t hurt himself as the nurse began to move around with frantic energy.

Steve wasn’t sure what to do, so he simply kept holding the man down and letting the nurse do her job as more people came into the room, Doctor Cho was among them. “What happened?” she said, and Steve took a moment to realize that she was talking to him.

“I’m not sure, he seemed to be waking up and then he just started seizing,” he said with a pleading look. He stepped aside when one of the medical staff stepped forward but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the room, watching as they worked and tried to stabilize their patient. Was it something Steve had done?

He was panicking inside, more so when he heard Doctor Cho’s next order, they were losing him. Steve couldn’t watch this, feeling pressure in his chest as he stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall. That wasn’t right, that man hadn’t just survived seventy years in captivity just to die before he could truly be free. Steve had promised him he would be fine and for whatever reason he felt that way, he also knew that he needed this stranger to be fine. 

At some point in his panicked state, Steve had slipped down the wall, staring at his hands as he waited to hear something, anything from the room. “Please don’t be dead,” he mumbled into his arms, firmly set in his spot. 

Why was he feeling like that? What was this about this stranger that he barely knew anything about that made Steve’s heart clench the way he did? Why did the thought of losing him just as he found him was terrifying enough to break down his walls? It didn’t make sense, none of it did but it was true nevertheless.

Steve tilted his head backwards until it rested on the wall, eyes staring ahead as he continued to wait, trying not to think about everything that he kept feeling inside of him.

After some time, how long, Steve doesn’t know, the door opened and Doctor Cho stepped out. Steve quickly rushed back to his feet, holding his breath as he looked at her.

“He’s stable, for now,” she said with a tired nod. “However, I cannot predict whether he’ll recover. Whatever Hydra did to this man…” she shook her head and although she didn’t say it, Steve knew what she meant. 

He sighed then, moving a hand through his hair before looking back at the door. “He’ll make it through, I know he will.”

Doctor Cho smiled at him, placing her hand on his shoulder and offering him a small squeeze. She didn’t say anything, but Steve didn’t think that she needed to, the message was clear enough and he offered her a small smile in return before letting her lead him away.

**xxxx**

It had been a few more weeks, but there had been no change in their guest’s condition, Tony hadn’t really gotten anything with his research, unable to test the energy as long as the man was unconscious but collecting reading nevertheless. Steve could see that the man was unhappy, especially with reports from Jarvis about the way the energy has begun to settle, the signature slowly fading away. 

Still, Tony hadn’t braved Doctor Cho or Pepper’s wrath again and instead changed his focus to plan their next raid. They had spent enough time delaying this unexpected situation, but they had to get back to searching for Loki’s staff, as Thor repeatedly reminded them time after time. 

Steve knew that he was right, god only knew what Hydra was trying to do with its power and as curious and worried as he was for Matthew, he knew that the staff took precedence at the moment. 

The Avengers were sitting in the brief room, planning their next mission to a research facility in Sokovia, going over the information they had on this place and its security, planning their attack. Natasha was in the middle of briefing them about the terrain and how they could use it to their advantage when Doctor Cho stepped into the room, a panicked look in her eyes.

“He’s gone,” she said. “Emerson, he’s gone.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at her, “the man was half dead, he can’t just be gone,” he said, shaking his head. “Jarvis,” he still said, turning his gaze to the screen,

“Right away, sir,” the A.I. answered and the image on the screen changed, showing the security camera of the room that had previously occupied Matthew, the room was indeed empty. “Would you like me to play it earlier, to the last moment he was in his bed?”

“Yes,” and with that the image changed until it showed the motionless Matthew once again.

_ For a few moments nothing seemed to happen, then slowly the body on the bed began to shift, muscles stretching as bright blue eyes blinked opened. The man turned his head slowly from side to side, confusion attached to his face before he reached to his face and tore away the oxygen mask, coughing as he took a few deep breaths and forced himself to sit up. _

_ Once again, the man examined the room he was in and then with an energy that he shouldn’t have, he got off the bed and tore away his IV, stumbling only slightly as his bare feet touched the floor. Panic seemed to take over him as he began moving towards the door, carefully looking to see the corridor was empty before breaking into a run and disappearing. _

“How did he?” Clint asked, looking between the members of his team.

“Jarvis, where is he right now?” Steve said, urgency in his voice. He knew what the man must be feeling, he remembered how he felt when he woke up, he knew the worry and how his first feeling had been that something just wasn’t right, he too had run.

“He seemed to have found his way to the landing pad on the top floor, Captain.”

No one needed any type of encouragement afterwards, let alone Steve before they left the room to find the man before he would do anything stupid.


	3. Chapter 3

It wouldn’t have been the first time he had lost track on time, there were many periods in which it had been too easy to fall back and let the world progress around him, to drown in the pain and grief that settled in his bones. No, he was no stranger to the passage of time or the changes humanity was capable of and yet, this had felt new.

Through the course of his life, he had been caught and held prisoner many times, less so as he grew into his powers and knowing that he didn’t have to hide. However none had been matched to the day he woke in shackles, magic burning inside his veins and fighting to get out but being granted no relief. 

He had been too naive, thinking that he was hiding well enough in this modern world, that his true identity was forgotten, changed in the pages of history and turned into a myth, he had wanted it that way, he thought that it would be easier.

Alas, he had been wrong.

They knew exactly who and what he was, they wanted things that not only did he not wish to grant them but things he couldn’t, especially not restrained and so they had kept him unground, with just enough to sustain his body, testing and torturing and trying to get what they wanted from him. 

He watched as they kept failing, until they stopped and left him. Once again forgotten, but this time with no way out.

Time passed him by in this state, mind lost to old memories and a world of wild imagination and he had resigned himself to that faith, to continue to exist in his prison. 

But at last, destiny’s next cruel punishment had ended, his magic had hummed in his skin, forcing his mind out of where it had been locked away as if it had been called. His torment had ended, but in a way, he also knew that it had just begun.

He wasn’t sure if it was his own imagination that created the illusion when he opened his eyes, or if by some sort of dumb luck, his wait had finally come to its end, that his saviour was truly  _ him _ . 

“I’m going to get you out of here, I promise,” his voice sounded different than what he remembered, if he even truly remembered and he tried to smile because whether or not he was imagining this, he accepted this promise -- he believed in it.

**xxxxx**

When he regained consciousness again, there were a few things that he noticed right away. The first was the pleasant hum of magic, the familiar comfort and connection to the world around him, his senses opening up after having been suppressed for too long. 

The second thing he noticed was that he was lying down, there was a beeping of some sort in the room and there was some type of mask over his face, at that he forced himself to open his eyes and take in the room he was in. It was white, a hospital room but different than any that he had seen before. To his right was a large glass window overseeing an unfamiliar city. 

Panic gripped his heart and he tore away the mask, taking a moment too long to realize it had been helping him to breath, but he’ll make it through, he was sure of that. He needed to access the situation, the sooner the better.

The man forced himself to sit up, cursing at the resistance from his muscles or the way his spine seemed to crack, instead, allowing his magic to wash over him and heal his body. He took a better look at the room, but apart from the large window there was nothing that could tell him where he was, or how long it had been. 

He couldn’t stay there, he needed to move. 

With that in mind, he jumped off the bed, tearing away the tubes attached to his arms and stumbling only twice as his legs adjusted to the weight of his body once more. It used to take longer, for his body to recover from the ills done to it, he used to have to think about it but no more, now it was simply part of his prolonged existence.

He paused when he reached the door, half expecting to see a guard outside and yet finding none.  _ Good _ , he thought, it should make figuring this all out a little bit easier and with that, he sped to the corridor, letting his magic guide him.

The building wasn’t like anything he had ever seen before, perhaps a sign of the changing aesthetic in the time he was trapped, which was a terrifying thought -- how long had it been? He needed to clear his head, he needed to feel the air.

That was exactly where his magic was taking him as the moment he came bursting through the door he could feel the cold wind against his skin, the energy of the world all around him and finally, finally it felt like he could truly breath again.

He dropped to his knees at the edge of the large platform, looking at the lively city that stretched into the horizon. If he closed his eyes and focused he could hear the sounds from all around, and feel the way nature had been taken over by concrete and metal and yet, it felt peaceful compared to the warzone that he remembered the world as.

“Emerson,” came a slightly familiar voice, the accent somewhat wrong as it spoke the last name he had taken for himself. Slowly, he forced himself to turn and look at the source and it was as if the breath had been knocked out of him in a second because he knew that face, he would know it anywhere.

Perhaps that moment of panic had shown on his face because the man, and those around him as there were actually more people on the roof now, seemed to take a cautious step forward. “Hey there, buddy,” spoke one of the others, “here’s an idea, how about we all take a step away from the ledge, ah?”

And it took him a moment to realize that they were worried for him, worried about what he was doing up here and despite himself he laughed.

“Okay, he’s completely out of his mind.”

“Tony,” the blonde warned, but he could tell that he too was taken aback by the reaction. 

Slowly, he pushed himself back up and took a big step to the middle of the platform, much to the relief of everyone it seemed. “I wasn’t going to jump,” he said, his throat feeling dry. “I just,” he said, looking around him again. “I needed to see it, I don’t remember the last time I saw the sky.”

“I’m sorry,” said the blonde, making it very hard not to look at him, at the familiar face. “I know how it feels, waking up to something different, a world that has changed around you.”

Did he? Could he truly be him? 

“What does that mean?” he asked, unable to conceal the hope in his voice.

The blonde smiled at him, “I took a dive into the ice about seventy years ago, woke up only recently,” but that wasn’t right, that wasn’t how it should be. “Name’s Steve Rogers and I promise, we want to help.”

Steve Rogers, of course he couldn’t be  _ him _ . Yet, he looked so much like him and there was something about his energy, he was almost sure but no, perhaps he was just wanting to see something, to feel it after all that time. 

“Matthew Emerson,” he said, reaching out his hand. They already knew that name and with everything, perhaps it would be easier to be the lost soldier they thought he was, perhaps it would be easier to explain than the fact that he was a fifteen hundred years old warlock.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter on, there would be some actual scenes from the age of ultron film, the dialouge does not belong to me, as awesome as it could have been. 
> 
> I would also like to thank everyone who take their time to read this and leave a comment, it really makes me feel good about writing this story and I can only hope that you will continue to enjoy it. I see some of your suggestions and thoughts about certain things that can happen or people who can be someone from the Merlin series, I'll keep it in mind but I do have this all thing mostly mapped out already, hopefully it won't disappoint. 
> 
> Also expect longer chapters from now on.

“Well, Mister Emerson, despite how impossible it should be you seem to be in perfect physical health,” Doctor Cho said, curious eyes looking over the man as he offered her a gentle smile. 

“Please, you can call me Matt,” he told her, carefully rolling down the sleeves of his shirt in a not very subtle attempt of hiding the marks on his skin. “I know that I’m technically old, but I don’t feel like mister,” he laughed and the doctor returned his smile. 

The doctor got up from her seat and began to collect her belongings. “You should talk with Steve,” she told him after a moment, stopping to give him another look. “I can help with what ills your body, but the transition, the mental aspect of it,” she sighed and Matthew just looked at her, the smile not once leaving his lips. “You should talk to him.”

Matthew got up from the bed, stretching his arms a little. “He’s busy, saving the world and what not,” he said with a shrug, an empty look in his brilliant blue eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother, he, the whole team, they took me out of there, I couldn’t ask for more.”

“You should,” she said, although it was clear that she didn’t have any intention of arguing with him about it. “Especially if you want to understand what Hydra had done to your body.”

“I thought I was in perfect physical health?” he asked, somewhat confused.

“You are but by all means, you shouldn’t be,” she said, looking him over. “You studied medicine and while it’s outdated, I don’t need to tell you that you’re impossible.”

Matthew sighed at that and moved a hand through his hair. “I know,” and there was something in his eyes, something worn out. “I know I’m not normal, but I’m fine and I’ll figure it out.”

She gave him a very skeptical look and Matthew just smiled at her. “You might not want to know, Matt, but good luck getting Stark off your back.”

The man chuckled, in the time that had passed since he work up, Tony Stark had been asking questions none stop, poking at him and testing his instincts, having Jarvis (which was something or someone Matthew couldn’t quite understand) record his every step and in general, making sure that he was always in Matthew’s business. 

It would have been borderline torture if it wasn’t for Ar-Steve. The man had been nothing less than godsend, picking up on any discomfort from Matthew in seconds, almost like he knew him, like he knew the little tattletale signs, he swept in and made sure to get Stark away from him. 

Not that Stark could be deterred from his curiosity for long, Matthew had learned it quite quickly but at the very least he seemed to be in the minority at the moment. And Matthew would also admit that he didn’t awfully mind the gentle rescues from Steve.

He had slipped, more than once, referring to him as Arthur, but apart from a small smile and a confused look in his eyes, Steve hadn’t actually said anything, allowing the two of them to fall into a familiarity of sort that made Matthew’s heart clench in a way he wasn’t quite ready to think of.

Either way, both annoyance and comfort were currently away on some mission, he would have offered to help but he wasn’t quite sure how, they were a team and he still didn’t figure out how to explain what he could do. 

At least not without becoming Tony Stark’s new project. 

“I can deal with Stark,” he said, realizing that he had allowed his thoughts to wander away again.

Doctor Cho gave him a very skeptical look, “you mean Steve can,” and there was something in her tone that made Matthew blush. Damn it, wasn’t he already old enough to not blush over small comments like that.

However, before he could make another comment, Jarvis interrupted the two of them. “Doctor Cho, you’ve been requested to prepare your equipment as agent Barton is in need of a full treatment, arrival time estimated in thirty minutes.”

Matthew looked at the doctor as she straightened up, pulling out her phone (which was awfully small for all that it could do) and spoke in a language he was only slightly familiar with. He knew better than to ask, having taken part in enough wars to know when to take a step back.

Still, his curiosity had him lingering just close enough, somewhat worried of what state the team would come back in - he hadn’t actually seen any of them get injured before and although he had seen what the new advances in technology could do, Matthew knew that he’d step forward if he had to.

Soon enough the jet landed and Matthew stuck to the wall as Barton was taken by Doctor Cho’s people, it didn’t look good. 

“Lab’s all set up, boss,” said a dark haired woman, Hill, if he remembered correctly, before Matthew got the chance to ask what happened and he simply decided to watch for now.

Stark smiled at her before pointing to Steve, “Uh, actually, he's the boss. I just pay for everything, and design everything and make everyone look cooler.”

“What’s the word on Strucker?” Steve asked, all at once the commanding officer he was meant to be and Matthew couldn’t help but think of a king and the way he held himself in the face of battle or when dealing with a council, a way that reflected that of the Captain at that moment.

“NATO’s got him,” Hill informed him, moving to walk alongside Steve as Matthew trailed behind them quietly. 

“The two enhanced?” 

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins. Orphaned at ten when a shell collapsed their apartment building,” she began and Matthew could already sense the dread, misguided youth by their pain, he had seen it so many times before. “Sokovia had a rough history. It's nowhere special but it's on the way to everywhere special.”

“Their abilities?” Matthew’s eyes lit up at that, now that was different, what exactly did this team get itself into?

“He's got increased metabolism and improved thermal homeostasis. Her thing is neural electric interfacing, telekinesis, mental manipulation,” she explained and Matthew could almost see the wheels turning in Steve’s head as he gave Hill a very pointed look, it was quite difficult not to snort at that. “He’s fast and she’s weird.”

Well, that was one way to put it, but Matthew found himself quite curious for the girl, those were not powers to be taken lightly -- it was far more complicated than being weird.

“Well, they’re going to show up again,” somehow, without even knowing what happened, he was afraid of hearing just that.

“Agreed. File says they volunteered for Strucker's experiments. It's nuts.” 

Steve moved into the elevator as she talked and Matthew was forced to move forward and slip next to him before he’d lose him, offering both of them a cheeky smile.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at him, to which Matthew’s shrug before he turned his attention back to Hill. “Right. What kind of monster would let a German scientist experiment on them to protect their country?”

“We’re not at war, Captain,” she said, looking between him and Matthew.

“They are,” he said as the doors closed and he turned his attention to Matthew with a questioning look. 

Matthew just smiled at him, “so,” he began, a twinkle in his eyes. “What happened?”

Steve chuckled at that, but despite how it shouldn’t be any of Matthew’s business, he started to explain and for a moment, a very short moment, Matthew felt like he was back there, with his king about to go on another adventure.

**xxxxx**

The next three days passed quickly, Matthew had found a rhythm in the tower, Stark was too busy locked away with Doctor Banner in his lab to try and poke at him again. Not that it didn’t leave Matthew worried, he could feel the energy from the lab, a familiar sense of something that he had hoped to never encounter again. Not that he could get anywhere near it, he was allowed to stay, mostly because Steve said so, but he wasn’t part of the team. 

Steve told him it was an alien sceptre, but Matthew felt like there was something more to it but Thor spoke of taking it away and he figured that the Asgardian could protect whatever power was locked inside of it. It was ideal, but it helped Matthew feel less stressed as the time passed by.

However, Matthew could shake away the feeling that something bad was about to happen, the dread spread under his skin like fire as the clock ticked away. Steve joked and said that it was about the party and how he must be nervous to interact with so many people after all that time but he knew that it was more than that, he just didn’t know how to explain it.

“Everything is going to be fine, you’ll see,” Steve said, squeezing his shoulder before leading Matthew into the room and there were people there, a lot of people. Steve chuckled at his distressed look but it was clear, there was no way he could escape the party.

It was okay at first, Matthew kept mostly to himself or holding meaningless smalltalk with a bright smile whenever someone approached him. It wasn’t until the middle of the party that he found himself distracted, as the heavy feeling in his gut grew as he felt a shift in the energy around him. 

Something happened, but he wasn’t sure what.

He looked around the room, no one seemed to have noticed the change which shouldn’t have surprised him and yet it did. His next step was to look for Steve and he found him near the bar, talking with Banner about something he couldn’t hear from where he stood. 

Matthew made his way over, apologizing when he nearly knocked off someone’s drink or stumbled over his own feet. So many years, yet some things didn’t quite seem to change about him.

“Hey, you okay?” the familiar voice reached him and so very slowly, Matthew raised his head to meet Steve’s concerned eyes, he had a beer in his hand which he probably grabbed while talking with Banner, not that he even noticed the conversation ending, so much for keeping an eye on him. Not that it was what Matthew had been trying to do, that would be weird and he was trying very hard not to be weird.

He took a moment before nodding, offering a small smile. “It’s just that something feels wrong,” he sighed.

Steve nodded, squeezing his shoulder before offering him the beer. “I’m sorry, this must be a bit too much after all this time,” and no, he wanted to tell him that it had nothing to do with the large crowd or how uncomfortable it made him feel, no, Matthew was always a bit uncomfortable around strangers, but Steve seemed so understanding as he kept on talking. “It’ll be over soon and then it would be the team, just hang in there a bit longer and find me if you need anything, alright?”

And like the idiot that Matthew was and not wanting to worry Steve, he nodded and took the beer. He’ll just have to try and keep his eyes open, whatever brought the unsettling feeling on would reveal itself eventually, it always did.

Time seemed to tick by and slowly the guests began to leave the tower, however, there was no sign of anything wrong and Matthew only grew more nervous, he did not like not knowing things, especially things that gave him the hibbie jibbies. Still, Steve made a few appearances through the night, holding a conversation and doing whatever he could to make Matthew feel more at ease so by the time most of the people were gone and the small group was relaxing after the party, Matthew was almost ready to forgot about the bad feeling and instead focused on the man sitting next to him, fitting by his side as if he belonged there. He really needed to get his head around this, before Steve or someone else would notice.

Well, he was pretty sure that someone did notice, Natasha seemed to be giving him a very curious look which resulted in him avoiding her gaze for the past couple of minutes. He was not dealing with this right now.

He was saved from his thoughts by Barton, who had made a really quick and impressive recovery with the help of Doctor Cho. The man pointed at Thor’s hammer and exclaimed “but it’s a trick!”

“Oh no, it’s much more than that,” the blonde giant said, leaning back on the sofa with a smirk. 

“Uh, ‘Whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power!’ Whatever man! It's a trick,” Barton mocked and Matthew couldn’t help but smile at that, he could feel the power from the hammer and whatever it was, he could say with confidence that it was not a trick. It was a powerful weapon, that much he had no doubt but not the most powerful Matthew had ever seen.

“Well please,” Thor said, smirking as he gestured at the hammer on the table. “Be my guest.”

“Come on!” Stark encouraged him and really, he should have seen that one coming. 

“Really?”

“Yeah!” As Barton got up, Matthew leaned forward slightly, doing his best to ignore the warmth that spread to the tips of his ears as his shoulders brushed against Steve, telling himself not to think about it.

“Oh this is going to be beautiful,” said someone Matthew didn’t really get familiar with yet, but had seen around Stark most of the evening.

“Clint, you've had a tough week, we won't hold it against you if you can't get it up,” Stark said and laughter echoed through the room, at least the sense of humor didn’t mature too much over the years.

Barton looked at them all before moving to grab the hammer, “You know I've seen this before, right?” he asked before he tried to lift the hammer, it didn’t even budge a little. “I still don’t know how you do it,” he said, turning to look at Thor with a shake of his head.

“Smell the silent judgement?” Stark mocked.

“Please, Stark, by all means,” Barton said, giving a mocking bow as he stepped away and Stark got up. 

This seemed to gather a few reactions from the people around the room and Matthew couldn’t help but grin, “this will be good,” he said in a whisper, enjoying the smile Steve offered to him. It would be good to see Stark being knocked down a peg or two.

“Never one to shrink from an honest challenge,” Stark said with all the confidence that Matthew was beginning to associate with him, it wasn’t strictly arrogance but Stark was definitely toying that line on a daily basis.

“Get after it,” said Barton as he sat back down, watching the scene with curiosity.

“It’s physics,” Stark explained and Matthew snorted at the same time Banner repeated the words.

Stark grabbed the hammerand turned to look at Thor, “Right, so, if I lift it, I...I then rule Asgard?”

Thor, still unbothered by the whole situation, nodded his head, “yes, of course.”

“I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta,” Stark said and Matthew could feel his respect for him begin to fade away. 

“That’s horrible,” he protested, even when he knew the man wouldn’t be able to lift it and he indeed couldn’t, serves him right, some things were not even to be joked about. 

Stark let go of the hammer and looked around him, “I’ll be right back,” he informed them before going somewhere. Once he returned, he was wearing the glove of his suit and gave it another try. It was foolish, Matthew knew that it wasn’t about physical strength but as Thor had said, only the worthy could lift it.

However, it had seemed to turn into some kind of a game and soon Stark’s friend had come to give him a hand, both of them failing to lift it despite their better efforts. Banner tried next, which was the most entertaining and didn’t work either.

It was then that Matthew felt a shift next to him and he watched as Steve got up and for the first time, he suspected that there might be a different outcome. 

“Let’s go, Steve, no pressure,” Stark said, perhaps predicting the same outcome as with everyone else.

“Come on, Cap.”

Matthew leaned forward as Steve grabbed the hammer and made to lift it and he knew that it had moved, however there was hesitation that he couldn’t understand it and soon he made another try, no results. 

“Nothing,” Thor said and relief echoed in his voice as Steve moved to sit back next to Matthew, the brunette offering him a confused look which he ignored. He’ll ask about it later, because he was almost certain that Steve could lift it, especially if he was… well, the person Matthew was trying very hard not to think of.

“And?” Stark said and much to his surprise, he was looking at Matthew.

“No thank you,” he said, lifting his hands in surrender, the last thing he needed was to find out whether or not he was worthy, although he doubted he was.

“Widow?” Banner asked, looking at the redhead who only smirked back at him.

“Oh, no no. That's not a question I need answered.”

“All deference to the man who wouldn't be king, but it's rigged,” Stark said, unsurprisingly a sore loser. 

Barton snorted from his spot on the sofa, “you bet your ass.”

“Steve, he said a bad language word,” Hill said and Matthew couldn't help but laugh at that. 

Steve didn’t seem as amused as he turned to look at Stark, “did you tell everyone about it?” and Matthew could probably answer that, yes, he had told everyone and their sister about Steve’s little slip in their last mission. 

On his hand, Stark seemed to ignore it, still focused on the hammer. “The handle's imprinted, right? Like a security code. ;Whosoever is carrying Thor's fingerprints’ is, I think, the literal translation?”

“Yes, well that's, uh, that's a very, very interesting theory. I have a simpler one,” Thor said as he got up and reached for the hammer, lifting it with ease and flipping it over. “You’re all not worthy.”

Then there was a loud screeching noise, horrid and forcing the people in the room to bring their hands to their ears in a failed attempt to block it and as the noise fade, Matthew remembered the dread in his gut, a feeling the grew into a lump in his throat as a broken suit of armor stumbled into the room. 

This was it, this was the source of it.


	5. Chapter 5

“Worthy,” the machine’s voice was rough in the silence and within moments, most of the people in the room were on their feet, looking at the mangled bot. “No… How could you be worthy? You’re all killers.” 

There was a surprise emotion in that voice and Matthew could feel himself tense from his spot half a step behind Steve, unable to tear his eyes from the oil dripping robot.

“Stark,” there was a warning in Steve’s voice and the technological genius didn’t bother with a witty comment, looking at his tablet with worry.

“Jarvis,” he called but unlike all times before, there was no reply, even Matthew was surprised, he had grown to the familiar accent and the comfort of the constant presence of the AI, he never failed to answer no matter what someone wanted from him.

The bot in front of them didn’t seem too bothered, “ I'm sorry, I was asleep. Or...I was a-dream?” he spoke, almost confused as Stark continued to mess with his tablet, talking about buggy suits and rebooting and yet, there was a cold in the air, knowing that there was something more. “There was a terrible noise...and I was tangled in... in...strings. I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy.”

Matthew’s blood ran cold at this, who had that thing killed? Steve seemed to be in agreement about that part of worrying information. “You killed someone?”

“Wouldn't have been my first call. But, down in the real world we're faced with ugly choices,” and yet the truth of his words didn’t seem to put anyone in the room at ease. Matthew had been forced to make many ugly choices in his life and yet, he knew that it wasn’t something to be taken as lightly as the machine seemed to be taking it.

Thor stepped forward, fingers clenching around the handle of his hammer. “Who sent you?”

“I see a suit of armor around the world,” but the voice that played wasn’t that of the machine but of Stark’s and all eyes turned to him. 

“Ultron,” Matthew turned to look at Banner as he spoke, had he been on that too? By the surprise of everyone else, it seemed that none of the others had been privileged to whatever it is that Ultron was.

“In the flesh. Or, no, not yet. Not this...chrysalis. But I'm ready. I'm on a mission,” Ultron told them and there was just something about the way he said it that sent shivers down Matthew’s spine, making his magic tingle under the surface. 

“What mission?” Natasha asked and one by one, the people in the room prepared themselves for battle, none missing the hostile atmosphere in the room. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. 

There was a moment of quiet, Ultron looking at them with his broken face. “Peace in our time,” and as he finished a few suits of armor burst through the walls and began attacking everyone. 

Steve’s instincts were better than his, he kicked the table to block the fire before being thrown backwards and the battle began. Glass flew everywhere and fire was shot and for a moment Matthew froze, horrors of hundreds of battles flashing through his mind, the constant need to hide and not let anyone see what he could do, but as soon as the fear came it was replaced by something else.

“NO!” he called out when another bot went after Steve, thrusting his hands forward and sending the bot out of the large window. He knew that there would be questions later but right now there was no time for it and Matthew began to move.

Blue eyes flashed intensed gold as he stretched out his arms, forcing bots away or creating a shield near one of the people in the room, it had been so long since he had let the power flow through him that way, he was out of practice.

Matthew grunted in pain as one of the bots knocked him into the wall when he was distracted, knocking all the air out of his lungs.

He coughed as he pushed himself upwards, watching as only one of the bots remained, Ultron himself. “That was dramatic! I'm sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through. You want to protect the world, but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to...evolve?” he said, moving around to pick broken pieces from the ground. “With these? These puppets? There's only one path to peace: The Avengers' extinction.”

Without letting Ultron say anything more, Thor swung his hammer to destroy him and Matthew managed a choke no, but it wasn’t enough and the bot fell to pieces. 

“I had strings, but now I'm free. There are no strings on me, no strings on me.” The singing voice of Ultron echoed through the space, coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Thor cursed before spinning his hammer and going out through the open window, Matthew wasn’t sure why. 

He was moving to push himself off the ground when he saw a hand being held out to him and he wasn’t even surprised to look up and see Steve’s kind eyes. “You alright?” Matthew nodded and took the hand, partly registering the blood on his palm from the glass on the ground but if Steve noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Matthew brushed his hands off on his pants and looked around, slowly everyone seemed to take in what had just happened.

“What the hell was that?” came Stark’s accusing tone and Matthew looked at him in disbelief, he knew what he was doing, shifting the attention away from himself, but Matthew wasn’t feeling like being thrown under the bus like that.

“Good question,” he said, blue eyes turning a shade colder. “What the hell was that?”

Stark marched towards him, there was a cut on his cheek, “oh don’t you start with me,” he said. “Didn’t you think that you should let us know that you’re an enhanced? Could have been damn useful dealing with those kids, or you know just knowing. What are you even?”

Matthew’s blue eyes narrowed at that. “Right, I should have totally told you,” he said, not raising his voice as he stared right at the other man. “Maybe if I had done that you would have been too busy to create a murderous robot because I would have been your new test object.” 

“I welcomed you into my ho-”

“No, they did,” he said, pointing at Steve and Natasha. “The only thing you did was poke me and try to figure out what had been done to me to make me survive as long as I have. So yeah, I didn’t tell you I have powers, but I’ve just spent the last seventy years of my life as someone’s lab rat, wasn’t about to run into the arms of another mad scientist.”

“You little -”

Steve moved to stand between the two of them, “that’s enough,” he ordered. “This can wait, right now we need to check to see everyone is alright,” he looked around everyone as he said that. “We can talk after.”

And just as it had been with a king, everyone listened and slowly they filtered into the lab, glasses pieces pulled out of skin and blood being cleaned off while others checked to see for a different damage. Matthew could basically feel the eyes on him as he sat in his corner, pulling out the glass from his palm, he tried not to let it bother him, instead focusing on what he was going to tell them when they asked.

Matthew wasn’t paying them much attention, only listening in to anything might be of interest to him. He had planned to remain that way when he noticed Stark moving to pull out his tablet and creating a shape out of lights, or at least that was what Matthew figured it was. “Yes there was.”

“This is insane,” Banner said, moving to look at whatever it was the Stark was showing them. Without the context, Matthew wasn’t sure what that was.

Steve looked grim, “Jarvis was the first line of defense. He would've shut Ultron down, it makes sense.” Matthew gasped at that, earning a quick look from Steve before the man returned to the situation. He hadn’t even thought about Jarvis, but perhaps a machine could be as alive as any other creature, even if not in the same sense.

“No, Ultron could've assimilated Jarvis. This isn't strategy, this is… rage,” Banner explained, a human emotion given to a machine, even Matthew could say that it wasn’t normal.

However before anything more could be said, Thor flew into the room and grabbed Stark by the throat and held him against the wall. “Woah, that seems to be going around,” Barton commented.

Stark, on his part, didn’t seem to be too bothered by the situation he found himself in. “Come on, use your words, buddy.”

“I have more than a few words to describe you, Stark,” Thor said, letting him go but looking as if he was ready to kill the man, this wasn’t good, this isn’t how a team should work.

“Thor!” Steve called, clearly the authority in the room. “The Legionnaire.”

For a moment, Matthew was sure that Thor would argue but to his surprise, the man didn’t. “Trail went cold about a hundred miles out but it's headed north, and it has the scepter. Now we have to retrieve it, again.” 

“The genie's out of that bottle. Clear and present is Ultron,” Natasha spoke up.

Doctor Cho shook her head, looking at Stark and Matthew had almost forgotten that she was there until she spoke. “I don't understand. You built this program. Why is it trying to kill us?”

That was a good question and yet Matthew had experienced such things, he knew how sometimes in fear a man could end up creating the very thing that he was afraid of. He had done it, more than once. He may be able to understand that notion, but he could not understand it when Stark begun to laugh, that was just not how this should go.

“You think this is funny?” Thor raised his voice while Banner tried to get Stark to stop laughing. 

Stark moved to the middle of the room, still laughing. “No. It's probably not, right? Is this very terrible? Is it so...is it so...it is. It's so terrible,” and Matthew could feel in his bones the true feelings behind those words.

“This could've been avoided if you hadn't played with something you don't understand.” Matthew had to resist the urge to mention that men always played with things that they could not understand, it was in human nature.

“No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It is funny. It's a hoot that you don't get why we need this,” and there was darkness in it as he looked at the god of thunder.

“Tony, this might not be the time…” Banner tried, obviously trying to avoid some sort of confrontation, a noble attempt but Matthew did not think that it would result with much.

“Really?! That's it? You just roll over, show your belly, every time somebody snarls.”

“Only when I created a murder bot,” at least one of them seemed to be keeping their head in this situation.

Stark turned to him, eyes ablaze. “We didn't. We weren't even close. Were we close to an interface?” Banner only shook his head at that and it got Matthew thinking, sometimes there really was a greater force in play, he knew more than anyone how possible that was.

“Well, you did something right. And you did it right here. The Avengers were supposed to be different than SHIELD,” Matthew had no idea what Steve was talking about right there, he hadn’t spent that much time learning about the many things that he missed during his captivity but perhaps it was something that he should be doing.

“Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole?” Stark begun and Matthew looked at him in confusion, he really missed a lot. However, that story seemed to be something that everyone else in the room was quite familiar with, allowing Stark the place to talk about it, to explain himself. “Recall that? A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We're standing three hundred feet below it. We're the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the live long day, but, that up there? That's...that's the end game. How were you guys planning on beating that?” He asked, looking right at Thor. “How were you guys planning to beat another one like him? Or I don’t know, like him,” this time he was gesturing at Matthew, making the man tense.

“Together,” Steve said, his gaze not leaving Stark for a moment.

“We’ll lose.”

“Then we’ll do that together as well,” he said, holding Strak’s gaze before the man finally turned away, relinquishing command to Steve. “Thor's right. Ultron's calling us out. And I'd like to find him before he's ready for us. The world's a big place. Let's start making it smaller.” 

With that the people in the room began to move, each with their own specialty that could help at the task and for a moment there, Matthew believed that he could slip away, avoid this awkward conversation all together.

“Matt,” or not.

“Captain,” he said, turning to look at Steve with an unsure look, feeling as if every muscle in his body turned to stone.

Steve sighed and took a few steps towards him, “let’s talk.”

Neither of them said anything as Steve led them to one of the balconies, the two of them simply walking in silence that allowed for Matthew’s brain to work in unhealthy ways. He didn’t want this friendship to be ruined already, he could barely bear the disappointment that currently shone in Steve’s blue eyes as it was.

So he waited, feeling like a young boy all over again as he looked over the city skyline, waiting for Steve to say something, anything as the seconds stretched on.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Steve had eventually said and if Matthew hadn’t known better, he would have believed that there was hurt in the man’s voice. “We would have helped you, we would have understood the results of what Hydra had done to you,” he continued once it was clear that Matthew wouldn’t say anything.

But what could he say to that? How could he explain that it was just so much easier to lie than tell the truth, how he didn’t think that they’ll find out.

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before he leaned against the railing, not daring to look at the man next to him. “But that’s just the thing isn’t it? You’ll try to understand what Hydra had done, how I was modified to be like this and yes, you would have been as gentle as you can about it, but you’d still want answers.”

“We wouldn’t have done anything to hurt you, nothing without your permission,” Steve countered and Matthew could feel his eyes on him, could feel the pressure of it. 

“Unless someone would have decided that I was dangerous,” and considering what Stark had just told them, the way he had made sure to signal Matthew out, it was clear that he, at least, found him to be a possible danger.

“Are you?” Steve asked and Matthew almost flinched when he felt the man’s hand on his arm, encouraging him to look at him as they talked but not daring to. He could imagine the look on his face, he didn’t need a reminder of it, of the betrayed face of the person he missed the most. “Are you dangerous?”

Matthew could feel the sting in his eyes as he finally turned to look at Steve. “Of course not, I’ll never use it to hurt you, all I want to do is help. I only ever use it to help.” It felt so much like that day back then, so similar and so different and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. 

“I believe you,” Steve said, “I don’t know why but my guts, they tell me that I can trust you, that you’re a good man. But the thing is, Matt, trust goes both ways, you want them to trust you, to not paint you as another threat then you need to trust them too.”

Matthew nodded, placing his own hand above Steve’s and squeezing it lightly, focusing on the warmth those words had spread in him. “It’s hard, I’ve been keeping secrets since I could remember, Steve, omitting truths, it’s what I do.”

Steve moved his free hand, placing his fingers beneath Matthew’s chin and forcing him to look up at him, meeting his eyes when the dark haired man wanted to do anything but. “Please, you can trust me.”

Something inside of Matthew broke at that, the almost plea by the other man, the look in his eyes saying that he wanted to get to know him. “I-” but he didn’t know what to say, he had made the mistake, a few good centuries ago, to lie and hide, maybe that had been his mistake, maybe this time he needed to do things differently. “I was born like this,” he managed to break out, “those powers, I was born with them, but I was born in a time where being different was bad, it could get you killed so I learned to hide, not tell anyone about it. Hydra, or whatever those German mad scientists were, they didn’t make me like this, they targeted me because they knew what I could do.”

Silence fell between them and Matthew could feel himself shaking, forcing his eyes away from Steve as he focused on his breath. After all this time, after everything he had been through, he couldn’t believe that looking at  _ him _ , telling him part of the truth, would be as terrifying as this.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper and yet, it was loud and clear in Matthew’s ears. The blond moved quickly then, wrapping his arms around Matthew and holding him close. 

At first, Matthew was shocked but he slowly wrapped his arms around the other man as well, holding onto him as if he had found something he had lost, something that he had been craving for his entire life. “It’s not everything,” he choked out, burying his head in the crock of Steve’s neck.

“That’s okay, you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”


	6. Chapter 6

The days following the discovery of Matthew’s powers and more importantly, according to the man himself, the creation of the new maniac threat Ultron, had been a whirlwind. Steve hadn’t had the time for another heart to heart conversation, but Matthew knew that he had briefed the team about what he had learned if Natasha’s curious eyes were anything to go off on, but there seemed to be some general consensus not to bring it up. Or at least that’s what it mostly felt like.

Matthew wasn’t sure whether or not he preferred it that way, but it did get Stark mostly off his case.

And when Matthew says mostly, he means that they had achieved somewhat of a silent truce, broken slightly whenever Stark poked him with something sharp to try and get a reaction out of him. He only stopped when Matthew finally snapped and had him stuck levitating in the air until Steve had ordered him to be put down. The other man hadn’t said, but Matthew just knew that he found the entire situation amusing. Really, who wouldn’t?

After the _accident_ , Stark had been far more careful with poking at Matthew, but the man knew that he had questions, questions he would have researched if not for the small issue of a murderous robot set on killing them all.

Not that Stark was the only one with questions, Matthew knew that both Maria Hill and Natasha had spent at least some of their time trying to dig out more information about him, they were just far more subtle about it than the others. Not that they would find anything, which he now realized was suspicious on its own but back in the 1930s it required far less to make an identity believable than it was today. 

Either way, Matthew knew that he needed to find a solution to this all situation by the time they finished dealing with Ultron. 

Usually that would also be the time in which he slipped back into the shadows, disappearing until there was something in the world that required his attention once again. He could do this now, knowing that even if they’ll look for him they’ll never find him unless he’d want them to. There was only one problem with _that_ plan. 

Steve Fucking Rogers. 

Matthew knew that for his own sanity, it would be wrong to allow himself to believe that this was Arthur, that maybe it was the years of waiting that led him to desperately grasp at some kind of hope that finally he was back. It would be plausible too, the gods knew that there were enough similarities between them, that his magic reacted to Steve’s presence in a way it hadn’t reacted to anyone since Camelot. He knew it was plausible, but he did not dare dream it for he was not sure he would be able to deal with the disappointment if he was wrong.

Not that it had stopped Matthew from growing attached to Steve, because damn it, he was pretty sure that he would do anything Steve would ask him too. He would have thought that by now his heart would be better at listening to his brain, even if his brain wasn’t much better half the time.

Arthur did always warn him that if he’d think too much he might hurt himself. 

His mind was getting off topic again, which really should not be becoming a habit of his, especially not when he was trying to keep track of the things that were happening.

“He really does have a nice ass, doesn’t he? Especially in those tight pants,” Natasha’s voice disturbed his inner musing and Matthew nearly stumbled from where he was standing next to the glass railing, watching Steve talk with Hill about something.

“W-what?” he sputtered, turning his attention to her with wide blue eyes. When did she even get there. “I wasn’t… hmmm…”

Natasha chuckled, shifting so she could look at him better. “Yes, you were,” she said, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world. “Not that I’m gonna blame you, most people with common sense would want a piece of that.”

Maybe he was old-fashioned but Matthew had no idea how to react to this, he was pretty sure that people didn’t start conversation with sexual comments (at least not in recent years), especially not about _that type_ of sexual relationship. He hadn’t been blind, he knew how people looked at it.

“Oh, don’t give me that scared bunny face,” she said with a roll of her eyes, a chuckle in her voice.

“Scared bunny?” he questioned.

“You know, same-sex marriage had been legal around here for a few years now,” she mentioned, so nonchalant about it while Matthew was beginning to wonder when did breathing become so difficult. 

Matthew coughed, looking away from her and staring at the wall of all things. “Alright, good for everyone. Why are you telling me this?” and damn it, he hadn’t been a teenager for centuries, why was his voice cracking?

He could practically feel her smirking from beside him. “You know, back when you were growing up it was kind of a taboo wasn’t it? It’s been really messed up,” he really hated her at this moment, he thought that they were becoming friends. “I just, well, I guess I want to tell you that it’s okay now, there’s worse things to be judged by.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, turning to look at her, wondering if she was going to force him to say it, to admit to something that he had already been hurt for a few times during his very long life.

“Well, I think it does,” she said, a gentle look to her now, he didn’t even know she was capable. “And for what it’s worth, I think he likes you too, but you know, people like him can be dense sometimes.”

Matthew snorted, he had dealt with plenty of dense people in his life. “Not like that, not like I’d want him to,” he answered, letting his gaze go back to Steve. 

“Maybe he’s not the only dense one,” Natasha offered, squeezing his shoulder before leaving him alone. 

He watched as she joined the team, going over a new piece of information that they had about Ultron and his accomplices. Matthew had been invited, usually by Steve, to help out, but he didn’t know anything about their technology and didn’t want to get in the way so he simply watched from the shadows, ready to help once he’d actually be useful. 

Watching and trying to keep his distance because if Natasha had noticed, if she could tell, that maybe Matthew was already far more in it than he ever planned to be.

**xxxxx**

The opportunity had presented itself earlier than Matthew anticipated and the dark haired man was currently sitting and staring at an impressive pile of files, sitting crossed legs next to Steve as the group went over the information they had about one Wolfgang von Strcuker. Matthew didn’t really know what they were looking for, but he was there, growing more horrified by the actions still committed by part of humanity with every paper that slipped through his fingers.

“Known associates,” Steve said, getting to one of the boxes of files. “Well, Strucker had a lot of friends.” And Matthew didn’t really want to meet any of them, at least from what he had read so far.

While looking at some of the files Banner looked a little green, well not literally green as Matthew had learned that was a very bad thing, but sick to his stomach. “Well, these people are horrible,” he said and the other man agreed with him. It surprised him that part of humanity just never seemed to learn from their mistakes.

“Wait, I know this guy,” Stark said, stopping over a photo in Matthew’s hand and unsure, he offered him the photo. “From back in the day. He operates off the African coast, black market arms,” and everyone was looking at Stark now, Steve offering a very accusing look. “There are conventions, alright? You meet people, I didn't sell him anything,” for someone who didn’t do anything wrong, Matthew felt like Stark was being awfully defensive. “He was talking about finding something new, a game changer, it was all very "Ahab."”

“Ahab?” Matthew asked, obviously confused as he looked at Steve but the blond simply shrugged at him. Matthew hated these moments, feeling so out of place in the current time but at least it was something Steve understood and tried to help out with. Oh damn it, he was getting distracted again.

Thor was pointing at the picture now, “No, those are tattoos, this is a brand,” and taking a moment to look at it as well, Matthew was inclined to agree. Back in the day branding had been a type of punishment for certain crimes, a way to warn the people of what a person had once done. However, it was less common in the modern world.

“Oh, yeah. It's a word in an African dialect meaning thief, in a much less friendly way,” Banner said from his spot next to the computer, making it seem so easy to use as he searched the brand itself. 

Steve leaned against the table, something dark in his blue eyes. “What dialect?”

“Wakanada...? Wa...Wa...Wakanda,” Banner stummered and Matthew could feel his face growing pale. He hoped no one noticed, he wasn’t meant to know anything about the country after all, but he had lived a long time and Wakanda was old as was the power in its center, he had been there a few good centuries ago on his travels.

“If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…” Stark said, looking right at Steve with a worry that Matthew shouldn’t be able to understand but did.

“I thought your father said he got the last of it?” Steve said and Matthew very much doubted it, perhaps both Stark and Steve did not truly know the worth of what was in Wakanda, not a surprising fact considering Wakanda’s approach to strangers.

Banner looked between them, obviously confused. “I don’t follow,” he said and Matthew had to resist the urge to explain, remembering that he too shouldn’t know anything. “What comes out of Wakanda?”

Steve looked at his shield, a grave look on his face. “The strongest metal on earth,” Stark said and once again Matthew really had to resist the urge to say something. It wasn’t a wrong assumption, but Matthew knew about one thing that was stronger than Vibranium, then again there were no more dragons to forge such metal today.

“Where is this guy now?” Steve asked, looking right at Stark. 

“On it, Cap,” the man said, turning to his computer, Hill coming to sit next to him as they began their search and once again, Matthew felt a bit useless.

“Hey,” he looked up to see Steve, offering the blond a small smile. “We’re going to go out there, find this man,” he said, almost hesitant and for a moment, Matthew almost knew what he was trying to say.

“I’m coming with you,” he informed him, voice firm. “And before you say something, I can help, if we find any troubles there, I can help,” he knew that he wasn’t part of the team but that had never stopped him before, better they knew he was there than that they didn’t.

“Matt…” Steve started but he wasn’t going to give him the chance.

“No, don’t start with me,” he said, getting up from his seat, meeting Steve’s gaze directly. “I know it can be dangerous, but I don’t care. You told me trust goes both ways and I want you guys to trust me, so please, let me prove to you that I can help.”

Steve stared at him for a moment and Matthew wasn’t sure what it was that he looked for in his face, but whatever it was, he eventually sighed and nodded. “Alright, welcome to the team.”

Matthew beamed at him, “thank you,” he said.

“Don’t make me regret this, Matt,” Steve added as Matthew turned to leave the room, but that hadn’t erased the smile off the other’s face.

“Of course not,” he answered before he slipped through the door, it was time to figure out how much he wanted them to know right now, figure out the best way to deal with whatever danger they’ll face. 

He hadn’t gotten far out in the hall, not even more than ten steps in the direction of the room assigned to him when he felt a presence next to him. Natasha.

“So, how do you know about Wakanda?” 


	7. Chapter 7

“So, how do you know about Wakanda?”

Matthew could feel the ice spreading through his veins as he turned to look at Natasha ever so slowly, perhaps not the best way to show that he had nothing to hide.

“What?” playing dumb usually worked out for him, but he already got to know Natasha and he doubted that such a foolish trick would work on the spy. Not that it had stopped him from trying, those things never really stopped him from trying. 

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him but for now she was keeping it civil, which means that she didn’t mistrust him - not completely or she would have probably been less direct about asking him. He could almost feel it, her asking him not to lie to her and become an enemy.

He sighed and moved his hand through his hair, unsure how he could even answer that. “What makes you think that I know anything?”

“You have a tell,” she informed him, patient, at least for now.

“Of course I do,” he sighed, the hint of a chuckle in it as he moved to lean against the wall. “Would you believe me if I said it was complicated?”

“Then uncomplicate it for me,” she told him, her eyes not leaving him, making him feel nervous. “We’re trying really hard to trust you here, Matthew.”

He knew she was right, they had been quite lenient with him considering the fact that he hadn’t really been giving them the truth, considering he was suspicious and he knew that. However, it didn’t feel like the right time to come clean, if anything, Matthew was sure that it would only complicate things further, a bad idea when considering the threat they were dealing with right now.

“I’ve heard things during my abnormally long life,” he said, speaking slowly and making sure to put as much truth in his words as he could, hoping she’d believe he’d heard it when he was held prisoner by Hydra. “The substance they have there, Vibranium, there’s a reason they don’t share it, the things it could be used for,” he stopped shaking his head. “I’ve heard things,” which had been the reason he had travelled there so long ago, but that wasn’t something Natasha needed to know.

Natasha looked at him, her eyes narrowed in a way that sent shivers down Matthew’s spine. “That’s not everything,” it wasn’t a question, she was stating a fact.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, pleading as he turned to look in her eyes. “But that’s the best I can do right now, and we have bigger fish to fry,” and hopefully she would agree.

“This isn’t over, Matthew,” and it seemed like she did.

“I didn’t think it was,” he offered her a small smile. “This isn’t the world I remember and I get it, I won’t always be able to hide all of my secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets,” she told him and he had no doubt that she had plenty of her own. “But we can’t afford to misplace our trust and I like you, but if you prove to be an error of judgement…”

She didn’t need to finish it, Matthew could recognize a threat when he heard one. “I know and I get it, Natasha, I do,” because an error in their line of work could be disastrous to their entire world, he knew that better than most. “I promise, I’ll explain what I can when this is all over but right now, this team doesn’t need any more distractions.”

“No, it doesn’t,” and despite the fact that Natasha had left him with that, Matthew knew that this conversation was far from over. 

Matthew sighed once more, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the wall, this was starting to become far more complicated than it had ever been before and he needed to get it together -- he wasn’t in Camelot any more.

**xxxxx**

“Hey, you’re alright?” 

Matthew’s head snapped up and he was almost startled by the kind blue eyes greeting him, he hadn’t really expected him to have the time to come talk with him but then again, perhaps there wasn’t much to be done on the plane. “Yeah, it’s just been a bit since…” what? Matthew wasn’t sure, it had been a long time since he had done many things.

Steve smiled at him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh and making Matthew’s heart beat just a little bit faster. “Since you walked into a battle?” and at that moment, Matthew knew that Steve Rogers was every bit the soldier everyone said he was.

“I guess that you can say that,” the dark haired man answered, leaning his head against the back of his seat and looking around the small group of people in the jet. “I’m not afraid,” he added, worrying for a second that Steve was looking for a reason to bench him.

“I didn’t say you were.” If it was possible to hear a person’s smile, then Matthew was sure that he was hearing Steve’s. “But just because you’re not afraid, it doesn’t mean it gets any easier.”

Matthew hummed at this, closing his eyes and trying to block the flashes of battles and wars, fought in impossible ways throughout time. “No, it doesn’t,” he whispered before opening his eyes and turning to look at Steve with the most tender emotion. “But it’s worth it in the end, as long as you’ve got something good you’re fighting for.”

“As long as you’re fighting for something meaningful,” Steve agreed. “It’s odd, knowing that so many years had passed and there’s still wars to be fought,” he added after a moment, reaching for the soldier Matthew had been during World War II. 

“It is,” he answered, his voice but a whisper, a conversation only meant for the two of them. “You go into war thinking that this would be the last one, hoping that we can find peace and understanding no matter how different the people are,” he spoke as his mind began to drift to another time. “You pray for understanding, for a golden age of unity and peace but every time you feel like you can see it, like it’s at the tip of your fingertips, that vision fades away to be replaced by the harsh reality and the cruelty that lives on in the heart of men.”

Steve looked at him then, the comforting hand on Matthew’s thigh unmoving and strong. “You can’t lose hope of that vision,” he said after a while. “That vision is what we’re fighting for.”

“You’ve been fighting for a long time,” Matthew’s soft answer came. “More than most,” he added, having grown familiar with Steve’s history and the sacrifices he made for the sake of the people. 

“And I’ll fight as long as it’s needed,” Steve said, there was no doubt in his voice as he spoke and Matthew knew that there would be nothing to stop him from doing what he believed in his heart to be right, that Steve Rogers would always fight for a better world.

“I know you will,” he said, placing his own hand on Steve’s thigh and looking in his eyes. “And I promise you this, I’ll follow you and would only use my powers to help, to protect the world I know you can lead us to.”

The Captain tilted his head at this, looking at Matthew with something akin to confusion. “How can you say that when you barely know me?”

Matthew smiled at him, soft and tender, “perhaps there is still much for me to learn about who you are, Steve,” he said, shifting slightly in his seat to face Steve. “But I know who you are here,” he said, placing his hand over Steve’s heart. “You’re a good man, you’re not afraid to do what’s right even if it’s difficult. You stand up for people and protect them, you’re a born leader and you’re destined for great things.”

“You’d put so much faith in a stranger?” Steve asked, placing his own hand above Matthew’s. 

“You’re not a stranger to me,” he said with a shake of his head. “Just a great man that I look forward to getting to know better.”

And for a few seconds, Matthew could swear the world stood still and it was just the two of them, the depth of Steve’s blue eyes and the feeling of his heart under their palms, making Matthew feel in a way he hadn’t in such a long time. 

Then the moment was over, a catcall whistle breaking the moment and making Matthew pull back his hands quickly, feeling the heat spread all the way to the tips of his ears and turning them red as he stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to hide his face in his blue scarf before leaving to sit elsewhere.

“Matt,” he could hear Steve behind him but he didn’t dare to turn, not when his face was burning as much as it currently was. “Seriously, Barton, what was that for?” he could hear the conversation starting but he didn’t want to, there was no need to make more of a fool of himself than he already did.

**xxxx**

He wasn’t the one to come up with the plan, but he did understand it, it was important to have a plan of action going into a possibly, or likely, hostile situation. That said, he did not like the plan.

The plan, as it was, meant that he was to remain in the shadows and help deal with the twins if or when they proved to be a problem. The plan dictated that he could not stand by Steve’s side and protect the man the way he felt like he needed to and no, Matthew did not care that his reasoning for feeling this way made zero sense. Especially considering he hadn’t quite been able to look at Steve since their little moment on the plane.

He especially did not like the plan once the shooting had started and he found himself fending off some of Ultron’s little puppets while losing sight of the other team members. His main worry might be Steve, since he was that much of an idiot, but he didn’t want anyone hurt if he could help it. Not even Stark and the man had got them into this mess to begin with.

Matthew’s eyes melted back into blue as he watched a designated piece of armor, touching his earpiece as he ran down the stairs. “Guys?” he called, unsure of how everyone was dealing and nearly getting shot by one of the mercenaries. “Come on, you can kill someone with that!” he called out and with a wave of his hands the guns flew to the other side of the room. “Much better,” he said, offering a pained smile to the man who looked at him with fear before moving on. Good to know that even with everything, some things didn’t change.

“The girl tried to warp my mind. Take special care, I doubt a human could keep her at bay. Fortunately, I am mighty.” Thor’s voice echoed in his ear and Matthew frowned as he continued on. The last thing he needed was someone messing with his mind.

He felt her too late, feeling the probe into his subconscious as he turned around quickly, making a pushing motion with his hands and watching her fly away. “Stay out of my head,” he said, but she simply smirked at him as she got up. Matthew lifted his hands again, ready to attack when he froze.

_ “Merlin,” _ came a very familiar voice from behind him, the echoing rattle of armor. “ _ Merlin, how long am I going to have to wait for you? You do remember that I am king, don’t you?” _

He knew that she was messing with his mind, but he turned around anyway, the world around him melting into a painfully familiar forest as he came face to face with the familiar smiling face and the arched eyebrow. “Arthur?”

_ “Yes, Merlin, who else would put up with you?” _


	8. Chapter 8

_ “Merlin,” _ came a very familiar voice from behind him, the echoing rattle of armor.  _ “ Merlin, how long am I going to have to wait for you? You do remember that I am king, don’t you?” _

He knew that she was messing with his mind, but he turned around anyway, the world around him melting into a painfully familiar forest as he came face to face with the familiar smiling face and the arched eyebrow. “Arthur?”

_ “Yes, Merlin, who else would put up with you?” _

It wasn’t real, he had to remember it and yet he found himself stumbling closer to the familiar phantom that had been summoned for him, warm tears stinging his eyes as he all but tripped into Arthur’s embrace, allowing himself to be wrapped by the vibrations that were his chuckles.  _ “Don’t be such a girl, Merlin,”  _ he said, pulling back on holding Merlin’s shoulders so he could look at his eyes.  _ “Why are you even crying?” _

He didn’t want to cry, especially not over an illusion made like this, but he could swear that he was touching him and he was warm and everything Merlin remembered him being. How long had he waited for something of that sort, real or unreal, he craved this moment. He let his hands travel over the familiar armor, grazing at straps and openings as he lowered his head and hid his face in Arthur’s shoulder, so what if this couldn’t be real? 

Arthur’s hands were callus as they rubbed his arms slowly, their touch reassuring in a way Arthur had only ever allowed when it was only the two of them alone.  _ “Merlin,” _ he said, always at a loss for words whenever Merlin allowed his emotions to get the better of him, uncomfortable but wanting nevertheless. 

“I missed you,” Merlin finally broke, his voice choked as he looked up to meet the king’s worried eyes. His cries turning into sobs as Arthur moved to cup his face, fingers brushing against rough cheekbones and wiping away the tears.

_ “I’m never really gone,” _ he whispered, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s.  _ “As if I would ever leave you, gods help me, who else would be there to get you out of troubles if not me? We both know you’d get yourself killed.” _

A chuckle broke through Merlin’s sobs and he smiled, holding Arthur tighter as he slowly reached out to press his lips against him and his king was more than willing to meet him, pulling him closer and dominating the kiss in the way he always had, making Merlin feel small and protected, showing him how much he loved him with actions as the words always failed Arthur.

It was so easy to melt into the motions, tears still streaming down his face as he held onto Arthur, afraid that if he was to let go, Arthur would just fade away as quickly as he appeared. He needed him and he needed to make the most out of this moment, as brief as it might turn out to be.

Eventually he broke the kiss, taking deep breath as he leaned his forehead against Arthur’s, his eyes flattering open ever so slowly, afraid to find no one in front of him. Arthur was still there, smiling with all the love in the world shining in his eyes. 

Gods, how much had Merlin missed him.

“Arthur,” he whispered, raising a hand to cup the king’s face but freezing when the red patch covered his hand, dark as it dripped down his wrist. “Arthur,” he panicked, and the other man smiled at him, color drained from his face as the weight of his body dropped, nearly sending the two of them crushing to the ground.

_ “Merlin _ ,” he whispered, blood trickling down from his lips as the warlock lowered them slowly to the ground, holding Arthur as close as he cold.

“No, no,” Merlin mumbled, shaking his head as he tried to look for the injury, for the source. “I can fix this, please, let me fix this,” he wasn’t even sure why he was begging, maybe it was that even in an unreal situation he couldn’t deal with the thought of doing nothing, of letting Arthur die.

But then Arthur had died. He had been dead for a long time.

Arthur, or the illusion of him, reached out to hold Merlin’s trembling hands.  _ “You can’t fix this, Merlin,” _ he said.  _ “What’s done cannot be changed, the past is what it is,” _ he slowly reached out, fingers brushing Merlin’s cheek and he leaned into the hand, still crying.  _ “You haven’t changed, have you?” _

“I promised.”

_ “You need to let me go, Merlin,” _ phantom-Arthur said, but the warlock just shook his head, refusing.  _ “It’s okay, let me go.” _

“No, no, Arthur I can’t,” he said, tremors shaking his entire body.

_ “Please,” _ he said and how rare was this word coming from Arthur's mouth, fake or real.  _ “Let me go.” _

“I don’t want to,” Merlin said, words muffled by the sobs wrecking his body. “You’re supposed to come back to me, you’re supposed to be here.”

_ “I never left you, not really and I never will, but Merlin, you have to let go.” _

He could feel the way the hand dropped from the side of his face, the light leaving Arthur’s eyes as he was once again forced to witness his death, hold him in his arms, helpless to do anything for the man he loved above all else. 

A cry of agony ripped through him, echoing through the space around him and making the very ground under his feet shake. Fifteen hundred years and the pain was not easier to deal with. 

**xxxxx**

“What the hell is going on?” He said, moving through the destruction around him, just barely able to stay on his feet as the world literally shook around him. Images of impossible visions haunted his mind, but it wasn’t the time to focus on it, his team needed him. 

Somewhere to his left he could see Clint supporting Natasha, yet his eyes kept darting to the other man not far from them. Matthew was down on his knees, tremors shaking his entire body in harsh waves and tears streaming down his face, his eyes shining in the brilliant gold that Steve had come to associate with his powers.

“No one can get close to him,” Clint spoke up, “she did a number on him.” Steve would say that she had done a number on them all, even Thor seemed to be rather shaken.

“Stark?” he asked, noticing that the man and his suit were nowhere to be seen.

Clint looked at Natasha, waiting for her to nod that she was alright before he got up and made his way to Steve. “Went to deal with Banner, we need to deal with this.” Steve’s jaw clenched, he had been prepared for the possibility of their plan failing, yet he had not anticipated it being this spectacular. 

“There’s a great power coming from the man,” Thor said, holding his hand out to reveal a shimmering gold barrier around the man before pulling his arm away. “I am unfamiliar with this magic.”

“Yeah, it’s new to all of us,” Steve said, “is he causing this?” he asked, referring to the way the ground still shook around him.

“Powerful seidhr can control nature,” Thor answered, something odd in his eyes as he looked at Matthew, yet his words unhelpful and even more confusing than Steve would like to admit. “Mjolnir might be able to break the barrier.”

“We’re not risking harming him,” Steve ordered, his voice harsher than intended. He did not think that Matthew was doing this intentionally, whatever the witch made him see clearly affected him more than the rest of them, he recognized distress when he saw it.

“We can’t let him destroy the entire area with an earthquake either,” Clint said, he was playing with one of his arrows. Steve knew that he was right, yet it did not change the fact that he could not stand behind a command that would hurt Matthew, there was just something about the other man, like he had known him forever.

Steve moved closer, placing his hand against the barrier as well, it was solid and he wondered if it was Matthew’s way to protect himself in a very vulnerable state, that could be quite useful in protecting civilians if it later came to it. 

_ One problem at a time, Rogers, _ he had to remind himself.

Slowly he leaned his head against the barrier as well, surprised by the warmth that seemed to radiate out of it. “Matt,” he called out, hoping that he could hear him. “Matt, if you can hear me, I need you to focus on my voice,” he didn’t know if it would work, but once before Steve had felt as if he had reached him when he was gone, when he shouldn’t have been able to hear and it was worth a try right now. “I need you to come back to us, I promise, everything would be alright.”

For a moment nothing happened and then the golden eyes turned to look at him and Steve almost felt overwhelmed by the amount of pain he saw there. “I’m sorry,” he could hear Matthew’s broken voice and he wanted to break through the barrier, comfort him. “I couldn’t save you, I’m sorry, I-I tried, please.”

As he cried, his eyes began to melt away back to dull blue and the earth settled around them before at last the barrier dropped, allowing Steve to rush forward and take Matthew in his arms just as he slumped forward.

“Shh,” he said, cradling his hands and holding him close. “It’s alright, everything is going to be alright.” Matthew simply held onto him, his entire body shaking with his sobs.

Steve lifted his head, looking at Clint and Thor from over Matthew’s shoulder, the archer and the Asgardian merely nodded before turning to leave. Steve could just see Clint supporting Natasha.

They took a hit and Steve would need to take care of it later, he would, damn his own visions, he would take care of all of them, he promised, but right now, he needed to take care of the man in his arms, a stranger that already held the ability to break his heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is basically just a short chapter to get out all of those feelings, there would be a bit more plot progress in the coming chapters and perhaps a revelation or two.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and thank you to those who comment, I know I'm not the best at replying to comments but I love seeing them and it really help motivates me to write more, I also love those of you who share ideas and theories - on which I don't plan to reply mostly as to keep certain things a surprise.
> 
> Also, I'm considering writing some events that prequel this fanfic, be it from Merlin and Arthur's relationship to some of the things Merlin had been up to in the last 1500-ish years, so please let me know if it's something you'd be interested in.


	9. Chapter 9

_ Let’s go home _ .

The familiar voice echoed in his mind as he allowed his head to lull backwards against the seat, half listening to Maria’s voice as she debriefed Tony about the situation, the disaster that this encounter had turned out into. He doesn’t even know how it had come up to it, how the team had been played as easily and as hard as they had.

Part of him wants to step up, say something but he had no idea what he could even say, how one even offered consoul to others when he could hardly face the visions he had been given, when he himself could hardly understand them. 

So he said nothing, instead, leaning into the comfort of the warm body pressed to his side. 

The other man was no longer trembling, but the way he held onto Steve was almost desperate, truly terrified that letting go would result with Steve fading out of existence and the soldier did not know what to do, his hand resting gently on the other’s thigh to ground him. 

He had not known Matthew for a long time, there had been no time for more than a few brief normal social interaction, the threat hanging above them making sure of that and yet, Steve could not shake the feeling that he knew that other man, like a long lost and forgotten friend that had somehow slipped back into his life, almost as if he was never gone to begin with.

There was a light about Matthew, hope and cheerfulness that made it difficult for Steve to look away, but there was also darkness there. He could see it, fleeting moments in which Matthew believed that he was alone, the cheerful mask dropping to be replaced by a tired and empty look, a look he recognized all too well, a look seen on those who have gone through too much and had lost everything.

The brightness was blinding, addictive and infectious to everyone who crossed Matthew (even Natasha had not been completely spared from his unique charm), but it was those vulnerable moments, the half-truths shared that truly drew Steve in.

Matthew Emereson was a riddle, a walking contradiction with ridiculous ears and an impossible smile, but there was just something about him, something Steve couldn’t quite put his fingers on and yet he craved to unravel the other man’s secrets, to learn who he truly was beneath his many layers of protection.

He knew that he was a man hardened by war, by the torture that he had been submitted to - he also knew that he was powerful, if his little display was anything to go by, perhaps more powerful than any of them assume. And still, as Steve’s gaze fell on him right at that moment, he felt conflicted once more, because Matthew Emerson looked so fragile as he clung to his side, red tear marks staining his pale face and his lips red from where he had bit into them. No, Steve wouldn’t say he looked fragile, but utterly broken.

It tore his heart to pieces. 

How could Steve even think about his own vision, his own realization and fear when it seemed too small and meaningless compared to the emotion he could feel from this man next to him?

The answer was simple, he couldn’t -- he needed to be the strong one. For Matthew, for the team.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered, leaning his head against the dark curls. “I’m right here, I promise it’s going to be alright.”

And never in his life had Steve hoped to keep a promise as much as he had at that moment.

**xxxx**

He hadn’t even realized that he had drifted into that pitiful sleep until he opened his eyes, bones cracking and muscles stiff as he began to move. Steve could still feel the warmth of Matthew’s pressed to his side and he gently nudged the other man awake, not wishing to startle him in his current state. 

Matthew is much slower to regain consciousness than Steve, his movements sluggish and unsure as he eventually allowed the soldier to help him out of his seat and off the plane and God, was he light, superhuman strength or not, Steve could swear that he weighed almost nothing.

“What is this place?” Thor’s voice boomed and Steve could feel Matthew flinch next to him, before he allowed his gaze to look around them, they had arrived at some farmhouse, woods surrounding them, it seemed quiet, distant and a far cry from the city they had grown so used to. Steve turned to look at Matthew, hearing the other man gasp, but it wasn’t with the same tiredness as before, it was almost as if some light had returned to the man’s eyes as he looked at the nature around them. Relief.

Was this something more familiar to Matthew? Was a farm a source of comfort to the man?

“A safe house?” Tony asked, following Clint as the archer led them toward the house door, supporting Natasha as he walked. 

“Let’s hope so,” he said, opening the door and leading them all inside. The house didn’t look like the usual safe house, there was a certain level of mess there, children’s toys on the ground, it felt lived in -- it felt like a home. “Honey, I’m home!” Clint called, letting Natasha lean against the table.

From the kitchen area a beautiful and heavily pregnant woman stepped out, concern showing on her kind face, she looked at Clint, almost confused.

“Hey, company,” the archer began, walking closer to the woman. “Sorry I didn’t call.”

The woman then smiled at him, “hey,” she said before kissing him and Steve suddenly remembered the end of a phone call that he had heard, the mention of a girlfriend. This woman seemed to be a bit more than a girlfriend.

“Gentleman,” Clint said, turning to look back at them with his arm still around the woman. “This is Laura,” he introduced.

The woman, Laura smiled at them and offered a small wave. “I already know all of your names,” she said and Steve would have felt awkward, he did for a brief second, but then he could feel Matthew’s movement from his side, a small wave in return and a bright smile that he always put on just at the right time, as if he knew it was needed.

“Oh, incoming!” and before Steve could even register what was happening, two children came running right into Clint’s embrace. This was his family, he realized, an entire family he never talked about. 

Steve wasn’t sure what to do as the father and children shared their moment, it had never been something that he had and it felt wrong, to look at them right now. Instead, he turned his eyes to Matthew next to him, the lean man squeezing his hand in reassurance. His eyes were still hollow, carrying the weight of what he had seen, but he was pushing it back for Steve’s sake and Steve couldn’t grasp why.

“Sorry for barging in on you,” Steve said a few moments later, finding strength in Matthew as he turned back to the other people in the room.

Tony nodded his head, looking at Laura with curious eyes. “Yeah, we would have called ahead, but we were busy having no idea that you existed.” Steve didn’t think it was the time for his usual wit.

“Yeah, well Fury helped me set this up when I joined. He kept it off S.H.I.E.L.D's files, I'd like to keep it that way,” Clint didn’t even look ashamed as he said it, instead simply holding onto Laura as if she was the most important thing in the room and Steve realized that perhaps, for him, she was. 

“Of course,” Steve said, knowing that there wasn’t even a question there. He may not like the way things had been kept from him, but he could understand Clint, he could understand that he just wanted to keep his family safe. 

Matthew moved from his side, lowering himself down on one of his knees as the girl, Clint’s daughter came to look at him. “I don’t know who you are,” she told him as a matter of fact and Steve noticed Clint’s gaze switch to look at them. They were a team, but he knew that Matthew was still somewhat of an unknown to them all.

“Well, I don’t know who you are either,” Matthew answered, his voice so incredibly soft that it took Steve a moment to connect it with the man’s mood only second before. “Should we fix that? I’m Matt,” he said, holding out his hand to the little girl.

In turn, she seemed to consider him for a moment, unaware of the many eyes that were currently trained on them. “I’m Lila,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

Then it was as if the entire world froze, Steve felt himself tense as Clint took a step forward, Matthew’s eyes shining gold, Lila gasping in surprise but before anyone could do anything more, the dark haired man pulled back his hand and from where his hand had connected with Lila’s sprung out butterflies, glittering with golden light as they flew around the girl’s head.

“You like butterflies?” he asked her, ever so gentle still and Steve felt his entire body relax at the show, watching as the girl tried to catch the butterflies in her hands, obviously delighted with the show. 

“How did you do that?” her brother asked, curious eyes following the butterflies before landing on Matthew.

Matthew looked around them, his blue eyes gazing over every single person in the room before he offered the boy the most breathtaking smile and answered. “Magic.”

**xxxxx**

He had hoped, perhaps naively, that there would be some solace found at this place, that the team would regroup and get ready to face the immense threat that they were facing. However, it seemed as if the rift left them all unsure -- broken and trying as he might, Steve could feel the anger and fear burning in his stomach, at Tony, at Ultron, at himself for letting this happen.

And maybe there was also part of him that burned in hatred of the secrets that are being kept from him, the knowledge that no one truly trusted him. As always, Captain America, here to complete a mission and doesn’t have to know the details behind it because what did he know? Who was he in comparison to mad scientists and brilliant minds?

He was just Steve Rogers, the boy from Brooklyn and a man out of his time. 

_ Let’s go home. _

What home did Steve have? Everyone he had known and cared for had been long gone, his life had become Captain America’s mission and there was no room for errors, no room to be lost and yet, he felt lost in the worst possible way.

He knew who Captain America was, who he was supposed to be but who the hell did it make Steve Rogers into? Who was left when the shield was put aside and there were no more war to fight in?

_ “Captain America. God's righteous man, pretending you could live without a war.” _

Ultron’s words haunted him almost as much as the vision he had been given did. Was Ultron right? Could Steve live in a world without a war?

“Don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself,” came a voice soft and Steve looked up from the woods he was still chopping, he had hoped the menial labor would clear his mind and yet it seemed to have failed to do so. 

Matthew was walking slowly towards him, almost cautious, but he still wore that pleasant smile. His dark hair was wet, a few droplets sliding over the side of his face and Steve was almost surprised that it hadn’t caught on his sharp cheekbones. He had changed the tight black suit he had been given for the mission for a far more comfortable pair of dark brown pants, paired with a blue t-shirt and a leather jacket. He had this ridiculous red scarf wrapped around his neck and Steve found himself smiling. 

He didn’t know why, just that it seemed oddly familiar.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head as he picked another piece of work. “Pretty sure it’s too late for that.”

“I’m surprised you give yourself such little credit,” Matthew hummed and Steve wondered if he was surprised by it, like this wasn’t what he had expected. “How are you feeling?”

“Great, absolutely fantastic,” Steve answered, bringing down the axe on the wood with a bit too much gusto but to his credit, Matthew didn’t flinch away as wood pieces flew in his direction. 

Matthew’s eyebrows rose at that, but there was still a smile on his face. “Then remind me to stay out of your way when you’re feeling down,” he said, moving to sit on a piece of wood Tony had left not too many moments ago. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, rubbing his face with his hand. Matthew may be keeping secrets, but he wasn’t the one to blame for what was happening and as much as it hurt Steve to admit, it was not yet fair to ask him to trust him with everything. He was helping, even when it had clearly hurt him. 

“What for? I haven’t seen you do anything wrong, in fact, you seem to surprise me in the best ways possible,” he said with that soft chuckle and despite himself, Steve could feel warmth spread to his cheek at that look in the other man’s eyes. “Oh my, did I just make Captain America blush?”

Steve gave him a very pointed look at that, “Matt?” the other man hummed, looking at him with an affection that shouldn’t be given to a stranger and yet felt so right coming from the other man. “Shut up.”

And Steve wasn’t sure what it was that had done it, but Matthew had started to laugh at that, bright and clear and so wonderful that Steve could hardly resist joining him;

“Better?” Matthew asked once the two of them calmed down and Steve nodded, surprised by how such a simple thing could help him feel  _ normal _ , to feel like himself again. “I actually wanted to say thank you,” Matthew continued, his smile dropping. “You got me out of the vision, I’m not sure I would have been able to get out of it on my own.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Matt-” but the other man wouldn’t let him finish.

“No, I do,” he said, “this wasn’t the first time you pulled me out of my own head, Gods forbid I could do it on my own, it’s just that after so long, after all that time, I forgot that there’s thing in the present and that I cannot live in the past.” And it hit Steve at this moment, he himself hadn’t felt the passage of time, it had been like sleeping and waking up for an entire new world but for Matthew it hadn’t been like that. Matthew had to live in solitude and torture for the last seventy years, trapped with nothing but his own thoughts and pain.

Steve moved to sit down next to him, brushing his shoulders against Matthew’s. “You seem to be giving me too much credit. Honestly, I do not know how you can still smile so carelessly after everything you’ve gone through.”

Matthew sighed, turning his gaze to the darkening sky. “Because of Arthur.”

“You’ve mentioned that name before,” Steve said, trying not to think too much about the implications of that, of the fact that Matthew didn’t just mention Arthur but called him by that name. 

“You and Arthur, you’re quite similar but I’m starting to realize you’re also very different,” Matthew said, not turning to look at Steve again. “Arthur was, honestly, the biggest prat and clotpole I have ever met, he had been this terrible bully when I first met him but as time passed and we both started to grow up, I learned to get to know him. I’d like to think that I knew the real Arthur, beneath the expectations of his father and society.” 

Steve wasn’t sure if he should ask as Matthew took a deep breath, he did not want to disturb Matthew as he was talking, sharing something that clearly meant a lot to him.

“I worked for their family actually, I hated it at first but Arthur made it worth it in the end. He turned out to be the bravest man I have ever known, even if he had to tiptoe behind his father’s back, you could always count on Arthur to do the right thing and in battle, he would be the one to lead, to take the hit for someone else and willingly lay down his life for another. He was noble, still a prat and terribly full of himself at times, but I couldn’t have imagined my life without him.”

“He must have been very important to you,” Steve said, trying to push down the unsettling feeling that wormed its way to the pit of his stomach.

Matthew turned to look at him, tears glistening in his blue eyes. “He was everything, I would have died a hundred times just to save him.”

“W-what happened?” Steve said, taken aback by the intensity of Matthew’s gaze, the unbearable pain that lingered there. 

Matthew sighed and looked away once again, his shoulders heavy. “He was wounded in battle, I wasn’t there and by the time I got there I couldn’t do anything, I tried, oh, I tried with everything in me, with every bit of power cursing through my veins but it wasn’t enough and I couldn’t get him to someone else in time, someone who could heal him. I held him in my arms, and I never felt as helpless as I did while watching the light drain out of his eyes. That’s where the vision had taken me, Steve, it had taken me to that terrible moment, reminding me all over again how it felt like to hold the man I love in my hands, helpless as he died.”

Steve felt his heart caught in his throat, trying to comprehend the many truths that had just been revealed to him, trying to understand why Matthew would even share that with him. But worst of all, he was trying to deal with this immense pain that came with the realization of why Matthew gravitated to him the way he did.

It wasn’t because Steve Rogers was someone he wanted to know.

_ “You and Arthur, you’re quite similar.” _

He didn’t know why it hurt as much as it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say there will be some plot progress in this chapter? Oops, my bad, this is just a not that short chapter about feelings and finally getting to see a bit of Steve's point of view on things, but I guess that if we're not focusing on the team but more on Merlin and Steve than this chapter is actually quite meaningful. Poor Steve.
> 
> ANYWAY! Next chapter we're going to see Fury as the team plans their next step against Ultron and the twins. Please leave your comments down bellow, they make me extremely happy to read. Also you can expect a separate work in this series in which I would start posting some snippets of Merlin's history and while it would not be require to read, I will admit that some of them could either help understand something in this story or hint at some things that will come to pass in the future as I already have the major plot-line planned until I'm caught up with Avengers: Endgame.


	10. Chapter 10

It had taken a lot to both speak and not say more than he had, in fact, he hadn’t actually planned to say more than a few words, a silent thank you to show his appreciation at everything Steve had done for him. Alas with the memory of the vision of Arthur fresh in his mind and Steve’s comforting presence, the words slipped out of Merlin’s mouth without much of a thought about it.

No, not Merlin, he was Matthew for now, no matter how much he wished to rip off that mask. Now was not the time, he wasn’t ready yet.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready, he could count on one hand the amount of time he had revealed himself to others, at least times in which he had done so intentionally. Nevermind that the survival rate of anyone he intentionally revealed himself to averaged at a few minutes post reveal. 

There were just things that only got more difficult as time went by, as he got older and more impossible. 

As it was, Matthew already worried that he had shared too much, that he had said something that he shouldn’t have. He tried to convince himself that Steve just needed a little bit more time to process the information that he had been given, the weight of the personal story Matthew had so willingly, and albeit foolishly, shared with him. 

He wanted to believe that Natasha was right, that Steve didn’t mind but in the hours which passed since their talk, it was as if the ground was starting to split between them, leaving behind nothing but a cold trace of emptiness. 

It wasn’t that Steve had said anything that could be interrupted as offensive, but the blonde man had a way of avoiding his eyes now or not say anything at all. It was too soon and Matthew knew he was reading too much into it, he was too desperate to grasp into whatever it was that he believed to have developed between them. 

He wasn’t thinking straight and he should, he was far too old to be a victim of his emotions once again.

Aware that any more lingering on his thoughts would only end in some kind of a disaster, Matthew decided to do the things that he did best when faced with his own emotions. Find himself a distraction.

Luckily, Barton’s two kids were more than eager to see some more magic and were just stubborn enough to monopolize Matthew’s time with silly requests and endless questions and for the most part, the warlock was all but happy to entertain them.

He had done everything from creating more butterflies to making dragons dance in flames, levitating Cooper a few inches off the grounds and changing the color of Lila’s hair much to her delight. He could sense Barton’s eyes on him at first but was not sure at what point he decided that Matthew would not harm them if he looked away for more than two seconds.

Stark was watching him too, having returned from doing whatever it was that had kept him busy until now. Matthew had almost smirked as he looked up at the scientist, knowing full well that the other man was trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He could have sworn that he had heard him mutter something about parlor tricks but Lila, displeased that his attention had moved elsewhere, pulled at his arm until he showed her something else.

In fact, everyone seemed to have watched at least some of the tricks that he was showing the kids, curious as they were, everyone but Steve.

And now Matthew was thinking about Steve again and how he was sure that now the man would never look at him the same, would not offer the same comfort he had so far. 

“Matt! Fire!” Cooper’s voice called out and the warlock looked down to see that his scarf caught fire, startled he waved his hand over it, the fire extinguished. “Wow,” the boy said and Matthew smiled at him.

Kids truly were great this way. 

“So, I leave you to your own devices for a few months and you go off picking a pyromancer?”

Matthew’s head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice, meeting the eyes, well, eye, of a taller dark skinned man. He could almost feel the aura of secrets crackling around him, the whisper hidden in his tone that he knew more than he was letting on. He didn’t need to be a genius to guess who this must be, he had heard the tales before.

“You must be Nick Fury,” he said, wrapping his arms around Lila as he came to sit on his lap, her eyes protective as she looked at the tall man. Matthew was almost certain the girl had adopted him, not that he minded, she reminded him much of the young druid kids he hid with after Arthur’s passing. Curious and full of life.

“And you  _ must be Matthew Emerson, _ ” Fury answered, his eye narrowed as she looked at him and Matthew could swear that he didn’t buy this name for one second, that Nick Fury  _ knew _ that it wasn’t his real name. “The wizard.”

“No, that’s a bad one,” Stark said, “if you want to go for it, you need something that sticks, like I don’t know, Gandalf or Dumbledore,” he said, leaning against the wall of the kitchen.

Matthew looked at him in confusion, “what?”

Natasha smirked, “no long white beard,” she said and Matthew nearly spluttered. “More like Harry Potter, he has the scrawny look.”

“I’m not scrawny,” but he did sound like a child, offering the Russian a glare as she chuckled.

“How about  _ Merlin _ ?” Fury added, raising an eyebrow as he met Matthew’s eyes, a challenge. He  _ knew _ . He fucking knew who Matthew really was but that should be impossible. 

“Nah, I’m with Romanoff on this, Harry Potter it is,” Stark said before Matthew had any time to panic and never in his life had he been this thankful for Stark’s constant need of attention and his annoying sense of humor. “So Eyepatch, what do you think about our little own boy who lived?”

Matthew gulped as Fury continued to stare at him in a way that made him feel awfully small again. “I think that with his power I’m happy he’s on our side,” he spoke, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat. “You are, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to let Ultron destroy humanity and kill as he pleases if that’s what you ask,” Matthew said, hugging Lila just a bit closer as the girl tried to comfort him. Damn it, he loved kids.

“Not what I asked,” Fury said.

Matthew shrugged, “yeah well, that’s what I got.”

**xxxxx**

Things had been rather tense following Matthew and Fury’s introduction and as cowardly as it might seem, especially for an all powerful ancient warlock like himself, Matthew had made sure to never end up alone with the one eyed man.

He had no doubt that Fury knew exactly who he was, however that knowledge only left impossible questions in his mind.

How could Nick Fury know his real identity? Even before he had begun submerging himself in society with fake identities he had stopped going by the name of Merlin, instead opting for the elusive identity of Emrys. The fact that Nick Fury knew that he was Merlin was so far from improbable it should be impossible.

The next question was what exactly Fury knew about him and how far from the truth it was? However, Matthew found that to be a question he wasn’t quite keen to get an answer for, usually those who found out who he was also came with impossible stories and expectations. He didn’t think Fury believed him to be a god, not after meeting Thor, but that left the option of not being human. Which Matthew was, or if not completely human, not a species that had not been native to this plant. 

However that was another thing altogether and on the list of things Matthew was never going to be ready to talk about, being the last of his kind made top five.

Luckily for him, Fury didn’t seem to want any of the Avengers to know his real identity, which left Matthew with the last important question - Why? This was the only question that Matthew was willing to consider and as much as he liked to believe that it was because it was just not Fury’s secret to tell, he believed that it must have more to do with the immediate threat that was Ultron.

If that was the case then Matthew would have to face the fact that he was on borrowed time. Just another problem on the list. At least it made him think less about how Steve was ignoring him.

Or not, because he was thinking about it all over again because apparently Steve Fucking Rogers ignoring him was as big of a problem as someone knowing who he really was.

Something must be wrong with Matthew, very wrong and he needed to get his priorities in check.

“Do we have an ally?” Natasha’s voice cut through his attention, and he turned to look at her, realizing that he had been staring into space, too focused on his own worries to realize they started to talk strategy, like they all said they would the moment Barton would put the kids to bed.  _ Oops. _

“Ultron's got an enemy, that's not the same thing,” Fury said and Matthew could swear that he was looking at him, but it was hard to tell with the creepy gaze of his one eye. “Still, I'd pay folding money to know who it is.”

“I might need to visit Oslo, find our  _ unknown _ ,” Stark said, folding his arms as if he had just accepted some type of a challenge. Matthew was almost certain that he missed the reason Oslo was the destination, so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

Natasha looked at Fury, eyes only briefly stopping over Matthew as if to tell him that she knew that he only now tuned in to the conversation. “Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that,” she said, but her gaze still lingered on Matthew and he just knew he was to expect a few words from her sooner rather than later.

“I do, I have you,” Fury said and Matthew had to resist the urge to gag at the ridiculousness of this statement. “Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else. Here we all are, back on earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard.” Yeah, Steve was definitely better at those speeches than Fury.

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk,” Natasha smirked and despite the heaviness that had been weighting Matthew down he smiled.

Steve didn’t stay quiet, looking right at Natasha, “you know what, Romanoff?” This time Matthew chuckled, aware of how loud his voice sounded in the room but barely even looking sheepish, especially when Steve looked at him and chuckled as well. 

Maybe they were okay after all.

Then Steve looked away, something darkening in his eyes and Matthew’s little hope had been crashed again. Fuck it.

“So what does he want?” Fury said, probably noticing the sudden tension between the two. Good to know Matthew wasn’t the only one ignoring problems.

“To become better. Better than us. He keeps building bodies,” Steve said after a few moments, trying to figure out what Ultron’s plan was. Once again it reminded Matthew of Arthur, figuring out the battle plan, mapping the field, unlike Matthew who always rushed in with his half baked plans and hoped for the best.

“Person bodies. The human form is inefficient,” Stark said and for what must have been the first time since they met, Matthew thought that he had a point, “biologically speaking, we're outmoded. But he keeps coming back to it.”

Natasha shook her head at him, “when you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed.” Understatement of the century.

“They don't need to be protected, they need to evolve. Ultron's going to evolve,” Bruce pointed out and Matthew couldn’t help but groan, nothing good had ever come when someone tried to meddle with the natural evaluation of things, he had seen it too many times before.

“How?” Fury’s one eye turned to the doctor.

“Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?” 

Matthew was confused for all but five seconds, before he gasped. “The cradle, the machine she had that can manufacture replicated cells,” or something like that, it was hard to keep with the advancement of technology when he hadn’t been there to see it with his own eyes.

Bruce nodded, “he’s going to create a body made of vibranium.”

“Which is bad,” Steve said and Matthew nodded.

“It’s more than bad, it will make him near indestructible,” Stark said, no sarcasm or joke in his tone.

“Then we stop him before it’s complete,” Steve said, getting up from his seat. “And if we can’t, then we find a way to destroy the strongest metal on Earth.” Fury looked at him then, a silent question in his eye.

_ Could you do it if needed? _

Matthew stared back at him, giving him a small nod before turning to look at Steve. “We find the thing that could destroy the strongest metal on Earth.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at that, suspicious and curious. “You know of something?”

“I might,” he said, offering the soldier half a smile. “What do you know about the sword in the stone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the long wait, things had been a bit crazy with COVID over here, but I promise I'm keeping safe. I hope you're all staying safe and healthy!
> 
> So this is the chapter, actually some big things are happening right now and I'm currently fine-toning the next chapter so I can hopefully get it up before the end of the week. Thank you for everyone who reads and takes a moment of their time to leave a comment, I do love reading what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! so it's been a while and I'm so sorry for those of you who have been waiting for a chapter, I'm not going to say anything about when other updates will happen as I cannot be sure with how crazy things are at the moment. However, please know that this is not been abounded and I do plan on continuing this.
> 
> That's said, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

“I’m sorry, are we actually buying into this crap?”

Matthew’s piercing blue eyes turned to glare at Stark, arms crossed over his chest as the scientist leaned back in his chair and gestured in Matthew’s general direction. 

“It’s not crap, a sword forged in a dragon breath makes for one of the most formidable weapons in the universe,” he said, almost taking it as a personal offense that Stark was so easily discarding the idea, it had been a few centuries since he had last even laid eyes on Excalibur but it was a weapon that he still cherished. 

“Dragons aren’t real.”

“Neither are nurse gods and yet we have Thor,” Natasha spoke up, nonchalant as ever as she looked between the two dark haired men, smirking when Stark glared at her.

“Not helping.” 

She had the audacity to just shrug at him.

“I agree with Stark on this, if dragons did exist on Earth,” Bruce began and Matthew almost chuckled at the careful suggestion that the creatures could exist elsewhere in the universe. “There would have been some kind of remains, especially if we’re dating back to the approximated time of King Arthur and Camelot, both which are believed to be nothing but a myth.”

Matthew had to roll his eyes at this. “They were very real, I can assure you,” he knew, he served the prophesied king.

“Listen, I don’t know if it’s a British thing,” Stark said, meeting Matthew’s eyes with a very skeptical look. “But we can’t waste our time chasing some fairy tale, we have real things that need to be dealt with.”

The warlock sighed and shook his head, “not a fairy tale. Just because you can’t find something, or because it was made into a myth, doesn’t necessarily means that it must be fake,” he knew that it would be difficult to explain and it was also his faults history had been remembered the way it was, Matthew had never attempted to correct anyone when false stories begun to surface. 

“Nah ah, we go around facts and there is nothing to suggest Camelot and King Arthur were real.”

“It is that hard to believe I might know something you don’t?” he asked, half aware of the fact that having this argument with Stark was useless. The two of them hadn’t been getting along since Matthew had first found himself in the tower and he doubted that a common enemy would make them best friends.

“Considering I actually live in this century, yes.

It took all of Matthew’s self control to not just blast him through the bloody wall.

“Enough,” Steve spoke and like the weak little thing that Matthew apparently was, he closed his mouth and said something as he turned to the blonde. “We can spread out, Stark will go to Oslo,” he started to give orders, every bit the leader Matthew knew him to be. “Bruce can go back to the tower, see what else you can find on Ultron,” he said, nodding at the scientist. “Natasha, Clint and I, we will go check on Doctor Cho, see if we can get to Ultron,” and then he turned to look at Matthew, his gaze intense. “Matt can go and find us that sword, we will reconvene at the tower, hopefully Thor will meet us there.”

There was silence when Steve finished talking, his eyes going over every one of them as if daring them to say anything else, no one seemed to want to argue. 

“Fine, but I’m telling you, he isn’t going to find anything,” Stark said, pointing at Matthew.

“To-” Steve was about to say something when Matthew stood up, he was taller than the iron man. 

“Fuck off, Stark,” he hissed and then with a flash of golden eyes and a whisk of wind, he was gone. 

Bewildered, Stark looked around them and then at Steve. “What is he?”

**xxxxx**

He probably shouldn’t have left the way he had, knowing that once he returned to the tower to face the Avengers there would be plenty more questions asked. However, Matthew had had a very long day, Steve had been completely ignoring him, Fury seemed to know who he really was and then Stark just had to be an arse and tell him that he was an idiot.

He was so tired of being called an idiot, not when he had never truly been one.

Still, he was determined to prove them wrong and get Excalibur. The idea of anyone but Arthur wielding it did not sit well with him, but he knew that it might be needed and perhaps, he was hoping Steve would be able to wield it, that he was indeed, Arthur returning to this world. It was a foolish hope, Steve was quite different from Arthur in as many ways as he was similar to him, but hope was all Matthew had.

And it wasn’t like Kilgharrah was still around to bite his head off for letting anyone but the once and future king use the sword. 

He missed his old friend.

Matthew quickly shook himself out of the memories, it did not do well to dwell on his past, on all that had been lost in the long centuries in which he was alive. Doing so, he knew would only result in lost time and pain. He needed to let these memories stay buried.

“Excluiber, right,” he said, taking a deep breath before transporting himself once more, pushing against the shields of his destination and easily slipping through. 

When he opened his eyes, he was standing in an empty hallway, portraits and images lining the walls and a red carpet stretching over the dark wooden floors. Someone must have updated the decor since he had last been there, still Matthew thought it must have last been done before his capture.

He hadn’t even managed to make so much as a step forward before he felt the crackling energy at his back, the sharpness of the manifested weapon aimed at his lower back. “How did you get here?” came a deep voice.

Matthew merely smiled, holding his hands up as a sign of surrender, he doubted that the man behind him would take it, both of them feeling the power in the air. “I stepped in,” he said, almost innocently. 

“This place is protected.”

“I know,” he said with a smirk.

“And know, he knows well,” came another voice and Matthew recognized the power before he saw the woman, her golden robes striking against the darkness of the hallway. “Be at ease, he is no threat,” she ordered and the pressure at his back disappeared, allowing him to easily turn back, the smirk still on his lips.

“My lady,” he joked with a fake bow and the ancient woman simply rolled her eyes at him.

“You have not changed,” she said and Matthew knew that if she would not have found the action disrespectful, she would have rolled her eyes at him.

“Neither have you, oh Ancient One,” and there for a short moment, he thought that he had almost made her smile. Instead, she merely turned to look at the other sorcerer in the room. Well, Matthew thought that they called themselves that but they were hardly the sorcerers of old, but something else entirely. Remnants of magic left behind in a world that hunted it.

“Master Sol Rama,” she said, her voice monotone as ever. “This is - what name is it that you have taken these days?” she asked, some curiosity in her eyes. Ah, so she must have lost track of him as well, Matthew knew that she sometimes searched for him, perhaps believing he would return even after she had not taken his advice. 

“You may call me Matthew,” he said and he could tell there were questions.

“Master Mat-”

“No master, only Matthew,” he corrected and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“As you please,” she merely said. “Master Rama is the Master of the London Sanctum, I daresay he did not expect a visit. What brings you here,  _ Matthew _ ?”

He smiled at her then, right to business with her. 

“I have came to collect something I left here for safekeeping many years ago,” he told her and for a moment, he could sense worry on her part, curiosity.

“What did you leave?” Rama asked and Matthew found it interesting that he did not question the sorceress supreme. 

Matthew smiled before he turned his back on the two of them and began making his way down the hallway, knowing that they would follow. “I have left many things with the order over the years,” he began, deciding that he could worry her a little bit for the sake of it. “However, I need something quite specific to deal with a current problem,” he continued on his way.

“And what is the nature of what you seek to collect?”

“Oh, it’s an artifact of great power, one of a kind if you’d please.” He needed this after the day he just had, with the storm of feelings inside.

“The artifacts chose the sorcerer, not the other way around,” Rama said, protective.

“I do not believe an artifact here will refuse me, Master Rama,” he said with ease, feeling the tension from the others with him, the curiosity in the air.

“Do not play your games with us, speak of what you’re after,” the Ancient One spoke and Matthew turned to her, a smile on his lips.

“You may relax, I have not come here for the Eye though I’m pleased that you keep it safe,” this seemed to alarm Rama, who perhaps did not truly understand the depth of that which was going on between the two ancient beings in front of him. 

She judged him for a moment, caution in her eyes. “The sword,” she said and he nodded. “Many had tried their hand at it,” she told him and Matthew grimace. 

“And have you not warned them?” he inquired.

“I teach of legends and the powers within, it is not my place to stop those who wish to try and pull it,” she simply said, but somehow, Matthew suspected it wasn’t so.

He shook his head and resumed his quest down the hall. “It had nothing to do with your hope that someone will succeed and it shall pull me back here? You say to not play games, old friend, but I will not fall for yours.”

“You’re as stubborn as you always were.”

Matthew chuckled but did not answer, perhaps he was holding into old grudge too much, perhaps he should spend more time with her. 

He simply looked around the room, eyes lingering over old artifacts and without meaning, connecting them to old memories. Then his eyes fell on the hilt of the sword, shining and unmoving as the day in which he re-embedded it in stone. It had been a stupid move, but he had a period in which he was so desperate to get Arthur back that he had literally had people trying to pull it out. It had not been one of his finest moments.

“I’ll take it,” he said.

“Out of the stone?” Rama asked, perhaps he too had seen many try and fail to pull it.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m taking it with the stone,” because he was, after all, hopeless and while he could remove it himself, Matthew was determined to at least let Steve try first. Just to be sure, just so he could stop wandering. 

“You believe you have finally found him,” it wasn’t a question, not from her, but Matthew found it just as annoying. “You have been disappointed before.” Again, not a question.

“Whether he is him or not, I believe him worthy of its power,” he told her after a heavy moment.

Her expression softened as she looked at him, “the world would not end tomorrow,” she said with certainty. “Before you leave with your sword, please, join me for a cup of tea.”

“For old times?” he asked her, knowing that perhaps he should leave, he should join Steve, Clint and Natasha, help them with whatever it was that they’d be facing in South Korea,

“For old times.”

“Alright, but only for a little while.”


	12. Chapter 12

There were not many people which he allowed himself to consider friends after the fall of Camelot, unable to bear the feeling of loss time and time again. He knew, without a doubt, that time would continue to tick by endlessly, humans would grow older and move on the next plane of existence while he, himself, would remain unmoving and unchanging in this one.

It was a heavy weight on his chest, an emptiness and wariness that had become a part of him and could not be changed.

Now, he was sitting across the only person still alive that truly knew him, that did not know just a legend or a mask. An old friend, one that might have used what Matthew considered to be questionable methods, but had been with him for seven hundred years.

He had watched her closely, the woman she had become as she took on the mantle of the Sorceress Supreme, the way she developed her skills and grew to be a guide. They often disagreed, she believed he could do more than he was doing but he knew this was not his part to play.

“Something weighs on your mind,” she said, pouring him a cup of herbal tea as they were left alone, back in Kamar-Taj, how long has it been since he visited here. She folded the long sleeves of her robes, old eyes looking at him with concern. 

Matthew sighed, placing a smile on his lips even when he knew she would be able to see through it. “Is this why you so kindly invited me over for tea?” He asked as casually as he could, bringing up his cup to his lips and breathing in the familiar scent of herbs. “Sage,” he whispered, a fond smile.

“It was the first drink you made me when I sought you all these years ago,” she answered, a faraway look in her eyes. “Do you remember it?”

The man chuckled before he took a sip of his drink, letting the warmth spread through his body. “I may recall a young, stubborn and quite ambitious young disciple trekking in the Highlands in search of a legend,” he said, for a moment seeing the Ancient One as she was then, youthful and wild. “You would not take no for an answer.”

“You were more than a legend, and you knew I would come.”

“I have seen your potential as you first stepped into the halls of Kamar Taj, and the old Sorcerer Supreme had given you that book with the hope you’d find me,” he did not quite remember the last one, it had been too long and the two had never been as comfortable with one another. A disciple of a different art, a man too stuck in the rules. “I think he hoped your stubbornness would change my mind.”

“And all it did was that you infected me with your rushness,” it had almost sounded like a joke. 

Matthew shook his head at her, “you understand what he could not and it was why I agreed to teach you, I knew you’d do what it takes to protect our world.”

“And yet, you are mad with me,” again, she was not asking questions but stating facts. “For breaking the rules the way you taught me how.”

“Longevity is not a blessing and the powers you meddle with are risky. I still stand firm in my belief that your actions will have repercussions,” he warned, feeling as old as he truly was at that moment. “We can break the rules, we can change them but we must remember that the balance needs to remain, your actions are not without a price.”

“And you’re angry because you think I’d be unwilling to pay it?” she asked, calm and serene. 

“No, I worry it would be higher than you thought,” he answered simply, they had this talk before, but both were stubborn in their opinions, neither budging even an inch. 

She shifted then, her energy probing at his own. “Like it has been for you?” she asked, he was not surprised, even she - who was his oldest friend alive - did not know the full truth from legend, Matthew hardly ever spoke of it. “Emrys, you are weighed down by the burdens of your past, you can always share with me.”

He offered her a very pointed look, willing her to drop the subject, she may not be wrong but even with Steve’s cold eyes flashing in his mind, Matthew knew he could not share with her. Matthew had built many walls around himself, he was unsure he was ready to let them down even for her. Not when he was trying with Steve, not when it was going badly.

Not that it was fair to compare the two, this woman knew far more than anyone else.

“Fine,” she said after a while, when it was becoming clear that whatever it was that she was fishing for, he would not give her. “Tell me of the one worthy of the sword.”

Matthew remembered the moment, all these centuries ago, in which she realized that he was the man she was after, the pure stubbornness as she stood in front of him.  _ Teach me. _ It wasn’t a question, she was determined and she still was, it was only on rare occasions in which he saw her change her mind.

He leaned his elbows against his knees, chin resting on top of his hands as he looked at her. “I do not remember the last time I have met a man of such a noble heart,” he began softly, the ache in his chest growing. 

Her eyes narrowed, “it’s a feeling,” and for a moment that almost sounded like a question.

“You, of all people, should know that it can be much more than a feeling.”

And somehow, just like that, like a memory of old times, Matthew allowed himself to fall back into a conversation about the mysteries of the world. And maybe he ended up mentioning Steve Rogers’ name a few times, but she never said anything, even when she knew. She may have been his student many years ago, and he may still be mad at her decision but she was his oldest friend and sometimes that was all a man needed.

**xxxxx**

It had been many years since Matthew had allowed himself to stay in Kamar-Taj, to get lost in the feeling of the magic around him. It was different from his own, electric in nature, crackling and bending, it was easily visible, shaped into whatever the wielder could imagine. So different from his own, that studying it had been rather difficult, his own magic was more fluid and grounded, like the winds signaling a storm, but he learned, in his own way and he had mastered even that which was never asked of him.

Spending time in Kamar-Taj always left a tingle just under his skin, but it was welcomed and cherished, a reminder of a world long past. No, not even the Ancient One truly remembered the world as it had been for him when he was young, a world full of wild magics, but this was the closest Matthew ever got to have.

It was like a fading memory, a moment out of time, but he had spent more time than intended here and he knew that if he would not leave soon, he would remain here longer, he’d once again be running away.

Things may have not gone the way he wanted them to, perhaps he was too rush or maybe too desperate and he was expecting too much. Either way, he had promised his help and he would not run away, not if he wanted any chance to understand how to, at the very least, keep Steve as his friend. 

(He was good at torturing himself that way, but Matthew just didn’t truly believe that he could stay away from him.)

Matthew had spent a few more minutes than necessary to mentally prepare himself to face the Avengers once more, he had no doubt that there was still tension and questions for him to answer. Knowing them, he also knew that they were likely to ask as soon as he reappears. 

Only that when he transported himself to the tower, no one seemed to even notice, they were all staring at the figure of a man hovering in front of the large windows. Thor was back, which was interesting on its own, and he was gesturing to the people in the room to wait. Interesting, the twins were there as well.

“I’m sorry,” spoke the man, his voice familiar. “That was… odd,” he spoke but Matthew wasn’t sure what it was that he was referring to before he turned to Thor. “Thank you.”

“Thor,” Steve’s voice was clear and Matthew, almost out of instinct turned to look at him. “You helped create this?” 

Matthew’s eyes narrowed, how much did he manage to miss? He hadn’t been gone for that long this time around.

Thor moved slowly, looking at the red creation, “I’ve had a vision,” he began and Matthew nearly cursed, that usually meant no good. He wasn’t aware of any prophetic powers of the Nurse god, but it did not mean that visions were impossible. “A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life and at its center is that.”

As the god pointed at the jem in the center of the creation’s forehead, Matthew felt the air being sucked out of his lungs. It was easy to think himself mistaken, to believe himself to be wrong when he did not see it, but there it was, clear and bright, an infinity stone.

“What? The jem?” Banner asked and Matthew found himself moving forward. 

“It’s the mind stone,” Thor and himself answered at the same time and in a moment, all attention seemed to turn to Matthew, but for once he did not care about the suspicion born out of this, because this was much bigger than he had previously thought it was. 

Thor gave him a nod before he resumed the explanation, “it's one of the six Infinity Stones, the greatest power in the universe, unparalleled in its destructive capabilities.”

Steve looked at both men, however, he seemed to decide to focus on the more pressing matters at this time. “Then why would you bring it too…”

“Because Stark is right.”

“Oh, it's definitely the end times,” Banner commented and if this situation wasn’t as serious as it was, Matthew would agree, but the Infinity Stones being part of the play? That was never something to be taken lightly, even Matthew, with his years of experience, would not meddle with something this powerful. Not again.

“The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron,” Thor continued.

“Not alone,” spoke the creation, bright eyes settling over Matthew, as if seeing something in him that he did not see elsewhere. He would have to speak with him later, when they can be alone.

“Why does your ‘vision’ sound like Jarvis?” Steve asked and for a moment Matthew wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to know or if he was just trying to avoid turning the questions on him.

Stark moved forward, almost cautiously, “we…” he started, almost unsure. “We reconfigured Jarvis' matrix to create something new.” Matthew could argue for days that problems often came when humanity just tried to create something ‘new’ but just because he was willing to live in the past, it did not mean he would stand in the way of progress. 

Still, he wished humanity would take a break. 

“I think I had my fill of new,” Steve said, seemingly on the same wavelength.

The creation, or Vision perhaps, looked away from Matthew as he moved around the room. “You think I’m a child of Ultron?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m not Ultron, I am not Jarvis,” he said, stopping as he looked around them all. “I am…” he seemed unsure, or perhaps unable to find the right words. “I am.”

The witch moved forward, looking at him with harsh cold eyes. “I looked in your head and saw annihilation,” she spoke and yet, Matthew could sense that it wasn’t that simple. 

“Look again.”

Thor moved forwards once more, “their powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultron himself, they all came from the Mind Stone, and they're nothing compared to what it can unleash,” he spoke and Matthew could stand aside no longer.

“These are not powers to be meddled with so easily,” he moved, walking straight to the Vision and meeting his eyes. “The use of an Infinity Stone is not without a price, not even you, Thor, can start to understand what it’s truly capable of,” he shot, wariness in his voice.

“I have learned more about the stones than any Midgardian could,” he said, almost harshly.

“Well, you’re wrong, these are not powers anyone should deal with. The stones had been scattered and hidden for a reason,” Matthew said, images of paths and futures flashing in his mind. He had seen, the crystals had shown him and he had sworn to do what he could to protect that which was given to him. To not fail again.

“How can you -”

“Because his powers are born of the same thing that created the stones,” the Vision spoke, perhaps finally able to find what it was he was looking for. “It’s vast and unparalleled, something almost eternal,” he spoke and Matthew could feel his body tense up as the Vision moved closer. “You have wielded one of the stones,” he said, stopping right in front of Matthew. “No, not one, more. I… I cannot see, what are you?”


End file.
